


What Doesn't Kill You

by Cybele2013



Series: Love Cannot Save You [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curse Breaking, First Time, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Mental Illness, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 114,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybele2013/pseuds/Cybele2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Directly follows the events of Tenacity of Purpose.  Harry goes to Egypt to study to become a curse-breaker.  He is confused over his feelings for Severus, tormented by demons from the past, and ill-prepared to deal with an alien world that follows a different set of rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as a short story to further explore the themes of fate and timing that inspired Tenacity of Purpose. It took on a life of its own. It is a story that seized hold of my brain and demanded to be written. While Snarry is a central theme to the story, it's not the main focus. I hope, despite this, you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> My undying gratitude goes to AquaAlta, my test reader and cheerleader. Without her encouragement, I'm not sure I'd have had the courage to post this.
> 
>  _Love cannot save you from your own fate._ Jim Morrison

Harry Potter believed in Fate.

His entire life had been dictated by prophecy. A prophecy delivered by an utter fraud at the exact moment she was interviewing for a job she wouldn’t have otherwise gotten. A prophecy that was overheard by a man, who was directly linked to the subject of that prophecy. It was true that Voldemort could have interpreted it other than he did. But of the two children due to be born, the man had chosen Harry, whose parents then chose the one person amongst all their friends in whom they couldn’t trust.

The perfect alignment of circumstances carried on from there. His mother’s protection. The inadvertent Horcrux. Pettigrew’s escape on the very night that the second prophecy was made. Harry's great slip-up of saying the one word that would ensure the trio's capture during their quest for the Horcrux. The resulting confusion of wands that made Harry the owner of the wand that was turned against him. Despite Dumbledore’s assurance that a man dictates his own fate, Harry couldn’t help but think that some things were just pre-ordained.

Harry believed in Fate - most of the time.

There were times when his faith wavered. While he _felt_ that his path was laid out before him, when he began to contemplate questions like 'by whom' and 'why', logic and reason began dissecting his otherwise solid faith. Harry wasn't a religious person. He had a hard time imagining that there was some celestial being out there, dictating the various plots of the individual lives on Earth. Whenever he did try and imagine such a being, it looked remarkably like Albus Dumbledore.

But Albus Dumbledore didn't believe in Fate.

Maybe he was right. Perhaps Harry's life had been merely a series of events – fortunate and unfortunate – dictated by nothing more than cause and effect, as Severus would have him believe. But there were moments in which the universe seemed to be conspiring to lead him in a given direction. He could recognise these moments by their urgency. They were usually preceded by a dark period of uncertainty and indecision until suddenly the path forward glowed before him, beckoning him along like a will o' the wisp. And when he looked back on those moments, it became clear that there was no other possible choice.

It was one such occasion that landed him here: in the marbled halls of Gringotts Bank, Cairo branch, waiting to meet his new curse-breaking master.

"Mr Potter," the tall, slim man greeted him from the doorway to his office. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person at last." The man had a rich, warm voice and his tongue tripped pleasantly over the words. His skin was a smooth, golden brown and his eyes, dark and smiling. 

Harry stepped forward to offer his hand in greeting. "Master Husef. Thank you for coming in on a Sunday to meet me," he said with a smile.

Master Husef waved him into the large room, which reminded Harry a little of Dumbledore's office. Cabinets lined the far wall, containing various objects and gadgets, most of which he didn't recognise. The rest of the room was made up of book shelves, overflowing with books. Although his dark, cherry wood desk was clear of clutter, behind his desk dozens of stacks of paper and files were held down by jewels and gold objects that looked far too valuable to be mere paperweights.

"I would be here anyway," the man said, gesturing Harry into a chair in front of his desk. "It is a busy time. We are bidding!"

"Bidding?" Harry asked, feeling like this is something he should already know about.

"Bidding!" Husef repeated enthusiastically. "The bank has nearly secured new land. We must prepare to ensure that when the Goblins have sealed the deal, the work is ours!"

Harry nodded, no clearer on what the man was on about. He supposed he'd find out eventually.

"You look tired, Mr Potter. I can call you Harry? You look tired, Harry!"

Harry felt tired and keeping up with the speed at which this man spoke was doing nothing to help this. "I didn't sleep well last night," he said vaguely, ignoring a sudden tight feeling in his chest. He took a deep breath to relieve it.

"Of course not! You are so excited to come and work for me! And we are very excited to have you here! Very excited!" the man declared. He pulled out his wand and waved it. Two glasses of red liquid over ice appeared. "Drink! Pomegranate and fireweed juice! It will wake you up!"

Harry thanked the man and brought the glass to his mouth, sniffing cautiously. He took a sip and nearly choked as his mouth and throat burnt as the juice went down. He coughed. The man laughed joyously. "It puts hairs on your chest, yes?"

Harry took another sip. The juice was ice-cold and refreshing, but with a sting to it that did, indeed, make him feel like hairs were growing. Not so much on his chest, but in his oesophagus, his stomach. It was remarkably stimulating and had a nice fruity flavour, once his taste buds recovered from the searing pain.

"It's nice," Harry decided. "Different," he added.

"Like me!" Husef announced. He gave a great, bellowing laugh and smacked the table. 

Harry laughed nervously, slightly uncomfortable with the man's overpowering enthusiasm for... well, just about everything, it seemed. He'd had a similarly befuddling conversation with the man on a Firecall prior to coming here, but seeing him in person was somehow larger and more imposing.

"Now, Harry. We have much work to do, yes?" the man said, rolling his chair back and spinning to pull a file from under a heavy-looking golden statue of a naked, fat woman. He opened the file and pulled out a piece of parchment, smoothing it out between them. "Mistress Marchese has prepared your schedule. You will need to rest well tonight, yes?"

Harry looked over to see a timetable that began at 7:30 and ended at 9:30 at night. The weekends were filled with criss-crosses with the words "AS REQUIRED" written in bold print. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. They had discussed that Harry would need to do extra work to make up for his lack of qualifications in Arithmancy and Ancient runes, but seeing it all laid out before him made the whole thing significantly more daunting.

"You will take night classes at the Centre for Alchemical Studies in arithmancy and ancient runes. You must earn an O or above to remain here with us, yes?"

Harry felt slightly ill when he nodded.

"But we are not worried about this, Harry! You have faced evil greater than Arithmancy!" He let out another loud laugh that reverberated through the room. It stopped as quickly as it started. He jabbed the paper with his finger. "For three weeks you will have safety and first aid training every morning. Very important. You must pay close attention to this. I do not want to be known as the man who killed the Boy who Lived, yes?"

"Yes," Harry echoed. "Er, no," he amended.

"No," Husef repeated. "Raven and Zhan, my assistants, will coordinate these trainings between them. Then, when you have passed your test with Mistress Marchese, we can do more interesting things, yes? Detection and Diagnostics, Curse breaking and Counter curses. You will also have lessons on research methods after lunch, and then you will help the team in their research in the afternoons – we are here to make money, after all! We must never forget this, yes?!"

"Yes," Harry said, feeling not just a little panicked and overwhelmed. Yesterday, his life had been so calm. Even working for Severus seemed easy compared to this.

"Now! Mistress Marchese – you'll meet her tomorrow, she is a wonderful woman! – she follows the education of all apprentices and acolytes of the three teams. She makes sure all of you have the same level of knowledge, but of course, you are with me! You have the best, yes?" the man declared with another bark of laughter.

"Yes?" Harry said uncertainly. "The best what, sir?"

"The best Master, of course. You have Master Husef! Master Müller and Master Winter are not bad, but they do not have our secrets! Harry, I will teach you everything I know, and I know so much! You're head will be three times bigger when you leave here!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. He didn't think his head could possibly be bigger than Husef's ego, but the man was so pleasant that it was hard to hold his arrogance against him. "But don't you work together, sir?"

"We work for Gringotts, Harry. But we work separately. As an acolyte, you might be asked to help out another team, but you will tell them nothing of what we do, yes? This is very important. We must get the work! To get the work, we must be the best, and to be the best, we keep the secrets, yes?"

Harry nodded. "Right."

"Right! Yes!" Husef declared. "Now, I will bring you to Raven, who will explain everything you need to know, yes? But before I do this, Harry, we must talk about a very important thing." The man looked uncharacteristically serious, and it made Harry appropriately attentive. "Now, this is a dangerous job, curse-breaking. It takes a particular type of person to do this work, yes? When we get results, the bank doesn't care what else we do with our free time. But! We live in Egypt, and outside this building, there are Egyptian Muggles, who are not as forgiving. Outside, we must follow their rules, yes? You understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I grew up with Muggles, sir," he added, wanting to reassure the man that he knew how to behave outside the Wizarding world.

"Ah, but this is Egypt. And Egyptians are not like British, Harry. Homosexuality is a crime here. If you get caught, it will be very bad for you."

Harry stomach gave a sickening lurch. He felt his face go hot and wished the ground would open up and swallow him. "Sir... I ... that article-" Harry choked.

"You do not need to explain! It is no problem for me. I only want to warn you to be very careful about this! But!" the man barked. "You will have no time to find trouble! We will keep you very busy, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said weakly.

"So, let's get started!" the man said, rising suddenly with a heavy smack to his desk top. His gold trimmed blue robes billowed out behind him as he strode to his office door, throwing it open with flair.  
Humiliated and weary, Harry followed the man out the door.

The corridors were empty. They passed countless closed doors as they made their way through the narrow corridors. Husef's boots clacked confidently against the marble floors, unabashed by the racket they were making. Harry shuffled silently beside him.

They reached the end of the corridor and took the stairs down to yet another long narrow corridor, at the end of which, light spilled into the hall from an open office door. When they reached the office, Husef pushed Harry inside. Two men looked up from their desks, which sat facing each other in a comparatively small office. Harry's attention snagged on the one nearest to him, who stood as soon as they came in.

The man was unlike anyone Harry had ever seen. Albino, Harry's brain supplied, taking in the man's colourless skin and fan of white hair that fell over his left eye. His eyes were, by contrast, glowing with the brightest blue Harry had ever seen. To add to the man's naturally peculiar look, multi-coloured rings adorned his nose, lips and ears. He wore a long black coat that had been patched and pinned in a way that looked less like mending and more like art. Under the coat, he wore a black t-shirt and ripped, tight jeans with tall boots that laced up to his knees.

He was at once, the coolest person Harry had ever seen and one of the creepiest.

"Harry Potter, these are my assistants, Zhan Zhakipaby," he said, indicating the asian-looking man who remained seated at his desk. “ He is a second year assistant, so we must be careful with him. He may plan to kill me so he can steal my job, yes!" Husef clapped Harry on the back and laughed loudly.

"Master Husef, you must not say such things," the dark-haired man said, with a reproachful expression. He rose from his desk and gave Harry an appraising look. "You are Harry Potter?" he asked with unmasked disbelief. His accent sounded vaguely Russian, but Harry couldn't be sure. "But you are so..." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

Harry blinked and smiled, unsure what to say in the face of such blatant disappointment.

"Don't mind Zhan," the other man said in an American accent. "He has no filter between his brain and his mouth. I'm Raven Kennedy," he said, extending a heavily ringed hand, with dozens of bracelets circling his arm that tinkled faintly when he shook Harry's hand. Harry couldn't think of a less appropriate name. The man anticipated that remark and said, "My parents have a keen appreciation for irony." 

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said. 

"The pleasure's mine," Raven said, grinning. "You're something of a legend around here."

Harry felt his face flush. He lowered his eyes. "There's nothing legendary about it, trust me," Harry said, feeling very awkward. He'd moved from Britain to get away from all of that.

"Nothing legendary," Raven laughed. "Dude, you broke into Gringotts and lived to tell the tale. I mean... and you killed that other guy, which was pretty cool, too," he teased.

Stupidly, Harry hadn't even thought about how the Goblins might feel about him coming to work here, after what he'd done. It hadn't even occurred to him to worry about it. "I forgot about that," he said. "It's a wonder they let me come here at all." He looked over at Master Husef, who grinned at him. 

"Not let you work here? They should have offered you a job on the spot! You are a natural. I cannot wait to get you in the tombs!"

"Acolytes aren't allowed in the tombs," Zhan said suddenly firmly.

"Bah!" Husef replied, waving dismissively. "How is our bid coming?"

"Icarus is working on one last report," Zhan answered. "We will be ready, sir."

"Niamh found something really exciting. It was just a fluke that she found it at all, but it will change everything," Raven added enthusiastically. "It's big, Husef."

Zhan shot him an irritated look that Raven didn't see. "We haven't done all the fact-checking yet," Zhan added. "We must confirm, but... it looks promising," Zhan admitted.

"Excellent! I knew there would be something. Niamh has erased the trails, yes?"

"Naturally," Raven said with a grin.

"Ha! We will win this bid and Heinrich and Ursula will choke on their envy!" He threw and arm around Harry's shoulders and jostled him. "Now, Harry, Raven is your mentor. He will explain everything and show you everything, yes? He is a very clever boy, you are lucky to have him!"

Harry began to get the impression that there was no one that Husef didn't like. But Raven seemed kind enough, compared to his abrupt and serious counterpart, and so Harry agreed that he was lucky.

"I will check on you later in the week, if you are still standing, yes? You must come to dinner and meet my wives and children. At least with you I do not need to worry about my daughters, yes?" The man gave another boisterous laugh and clapped Harry on the back so hard, he stumbled forward.

Harry successfully kept from hiding behind his hands, but couldn't stand to look up at the other two men in the room. Husef took his loud and boisterous leave, and Harry took a deep breath before raising his eyes again. Zhan looked incredibly annoyed as he flopped back to his desk chair. Raven appeared amused.

"You are lucky. I was in the team four years before I got an invitation," Zhan said bitterly.

Raven rolled his eyes and shook his head as though to say, Don't worry about him. "Come on, Harry. I'll show you around," Raven said, picking his wand up from his desk and stuffing it in his inside pocket. Harry eagerly left the room and the unfriendly man in it. 

"You look tired," Raven said sympathetically, as he began leading Harry down the corridor and back up the stairs. 

"I had a late night," Harry said vaguely.

"Yeah. Me too. We've been working hard on this bid," he said. 

"I'm not sure I understand what that's all about," Harry admitted. 

Raven chuckled. "It's all politics," he said. "The Goblin's are working to get this property. We think there's quite a lot hidden there. Normally, we shouldn't know about it until the deal is done, but Husef got a tip off last week. We've been working ever since."

"But don't we all work for the Goblins?" Harry said, still confused.

"Sort of," Raven said. "The bank funds the apprentice program. We are officially employed to provide curse breaking services to the bank's clients. But that's not where the money's at. When the bank acquires a new property they put a base value on it. The different teams do research – you know, on the family, on the property itself – was it owned by some noble family a thousand years ago? Could there be tombs hidden beneath? Are there any ancient artefacts that might still be around? And then, based on our research, we offer a bid. It has to be high enough to beat the other teams, but low enough so that we make a bit on the deal as well."

There had been something in Harry's contract about a one-percent commission on treasure found, but Harry hadn't paid much attention. He'd paid a small fortune for the honour of working for Gringotts and being trained. Not to mention what he was paying for the additional courses he needed to take to get the proper qualifications. One-percent didn't seem like much, and Harry hadn't accepted the post for money anyway.

"Are you ever wrong? I mean, with the research."

"Not often," he said. "We're really thorough. But if we bid too high, Husef has to make up the difference out of his own pocket. It's the same with all the teams. There's pretty fierce competition between us."

Harry nodded, happy to understand a little better now. "What are the others like?"

"You'll meet them all. They each have to give lessons to the apprentices and acolytes," he said. "They all have their strengths. Master Husef has the advantage of being a local, so he gets a lot more information out of the people than the others. But Müller is wickedly clever when it comes to the Goblins. Sometimes I wonder if he's not part Goblin himself. And Master Winter – not Mistress Winter. You don't want to get that wrong. Trust me. – she's an Egyptologist on top of having an encyclopaedic knowledge of curses. We're supposed to use her if we run into trouble, but we try to avoid it. She's been known to steal work out from under us."

"Wow. It sounds brutal," Harry said.

"It's fun," Raven assured him. "You'll see." He turned down another long corridor that branched off from the one where Husef's office sat. "We're a really great team, actually. We all sort of complement each other, you know? But it's hard work. It's a wonder we have any acolytes at all."

"Why?"

Raven shook his head. "It shit work," he said. "You learn a lot, but you get all the really boring jobs. Depending upon who the apprentices are, and who your mentor is, it can be really painful. You're at the bottom of the pecking order, Harry. It's not a nice place to be," he said.

He pushed through a door that led outside to a court yard where several tables sat empty. "These are the dorms," Raven told him as they came up to a smaller building across from where they came out. "Normally we would have four acolytes – two for Zhan and two for me. But there hasn't been much interest in curse-breaking lately. Husef thinks it has something to do with your war, but I don't know. Those we get are either swiped by the other teams, or can't handle the pressure. Given that we lost Ellis, you have a room to yourself."

They opened a second door that led to a common room. Two girls sat chatting in the corner. Two boys sat separately, quietly studying. Another girl with fiery red hair sat in a chair near the door. She wore headphones and made notes from a book she was reading. She's the only one who didn't look up when they came in.

"Hi, Raven," one of the girls said eagerly. She clearly fancied him. 

He grinned back at her. "Meredith. Harry, let me introduce you to –"

"Holy shit! That's Harry Potter," the girl called Meredith exclaimed. "How did you get Harry Potter?" she said with mixed surprise and dismay.

"You kept that quiet," said a blond boy who sat on the floor with his back against the chair.

The other dark-haired boy smiled brightly. "Why did I not know?" he asked in a French accent.

"Master Husef wanted it kept secret," Raven told him. "Harry, this is Michel. He's Zhan's acolyte. You'll be working pretty closely with him. That's Meredith, she's a second year apprentice under Müller, and Astrid is a second year under Winter. Sven," he said, nodding to the blond boy, "is also Müller's, a third year apprentice. And this," he said, kicking the chair where the red headed girl was ignoring the scene in front of her. She looked up slowly with heavily lined eyes. She pulled the earphones out of her ears. "This is Niamh. She's a second year apprentice on our team. Niamh, this is Harry Potter."

Her eyes widened slightly and searched for Harry's scar that was hidden under his fringe. "Niamh has a thing for your...um, friend," Raven said.

Harry blinked, thinking that he couldn't wait to tell Ron that there was some bird in Egypt who fancied him. 

She glared at Raven. "I don't have a thing," she said in a heavy Irish accent. "That's the new acolyte?" she asked. "Why the big secret?"

Raven shrugged. "You know what Husef's like."

She snorted and then eyed Harry. "Well, just so long as he doesn't expect anyone to bow to him," she said and then put her earphones back in. 

Raven looked at Harry and shook his head. "She'll warm up," he said with a grin. "Come on. I'll show you to your room." He led Harry back out of the common room into a long, yellow corridor dotted with green doors. 

As they left the room, Harry heard the girl called Meredith say, "I'd bow to him." The others sniggered.

Michel answered, "If I am right, he will not be interested in you bowing to him."

Harry cringed, and then cringed again at the response. "Then you bow to him, Michel. I'll watch." Harry gave up the pretence of not hearing them and covered his face with his hands. Raven put a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll want to be careful with them," he said.

"I heard that, Raven."

"I wasn't being subtle, Mer," Raven called back before swishing his wand to unlock the green door in front of them. He pushed the door open and then guided Harry inside. "As an acolyte, you're sort of fair game. Any team can use you for any task, really. And they'll try and use you to get information on what we're doing. It's best to steer clear of them as much as possible until you know what sort of information you can safely give. Of course, as an acolyte, you won't really get a lot of information anyway," Raven said apologetically.

Harry pursed his lips. "So, basically, I should treat everyone like a spy," he summarised.

"Exactly. Apart from our team. Really, your first task is learning as much as you can. Just concentrate on that. You'll be able to make friends with them, in time. We all get along pretty well. You just need to learn to keep the game in mind. It's us versus them. And some of them fight dirty."

Harry gave a worried smile. He wondered if this is what it would have been like had he been sorted into Slytherin. It sounded like survival of the fittest, and he wasn't at all confident that he'd make the cut.

"You'll do fine," Raven reassured him. 

Harry snorted. "I don't know. Zhan and Niamh don't seem to care much for me," he said.

Raven grinned. "Zhan is extremely ambitious, but he's also very passionate about what we do. He takes the game a bit too seriously sometimes, but he's good at what he does. You'll learn a lot from him. And Niamh... well, she'll warm up to you eventually. She'll probably be in here grilling you about your ... friend. She's a little obsessive. Wait until you see her room. She's got a little shrine going."

"For Ron?" Harry asked incredulously.

Raven frowned. "Who's Ron?" he asked. 

Harry blinked. "My friend. Who are you talking about?"

"Snape. I thought-"

"Oh." Harry's chest grew tight again. Suddenly the hesitation before the word "friend" took on a new significance. He felt his face heat up, and he wondered if he should tell the truth or not. He wasn't even sure what the truth was. It had been far clearer twenty-four hours ago. He could have confidently said that there was nothing between him and Severus. But now... well, he wasn't sure. The night he'd just spent had been puzzling and weird, if he were honest. Severus had held his hand. Harry had slept in the man's arms.

Severus hadn't kissed him, and Harry was both relieved and confused about that. 

"I guess you two... broke up?"

Harry blinked. "The article about us ... it was unfounded," he said. And it had been. The interest at the time was completely one-sided, and Harry wasn't certain if it still was or not. Severus might have just been humouring him.

"Oh. So, you're not... Well, Niamh will be glad to hear that," Raven laughed. "In that case, I urge you to really steer clear of Meredith, yeah? In fact, it might be best if she went on believing you were ... not interested." Raven grinned.

Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable. On the one hand, everyone already assumed he was gay and so, he could be spared the whole business of coming out to anyone. On the other, Harry wasn't ready to be out. He wasn't ready to admit to it. Perhaps he could get by with simply not denying it. It was a step, he thought. 

"That won't be a problem," he said quite truthfully.

"Great," Raven said. "So if you want, I can show you around some more. Or, I can leave you to get settled. You have me first thing tomorrow, so I can give you the rest of the tour then, if you're as exhausted as you look."

Harry smiled apologetically. "Thanks," he said. "I'd quite like to get settled, if you don't mind."

"No worries. So, if you need anything, go to Niamh or Icarus. Michel could probably help as well. You haven't met Malika yet. She's Niamh's roommate, but she's a bit quiet. She keeps to her room a lot. Icarus will be around later. He's finishing up a report for Husef. I'll make sure he introduces himself." He gave Harry a searching look. "Don't worry about Niamh, okay? Her bark is worse than her bite. She's obligated to help you, so don't take any shit from her, okay?"

"Right," Harry said quietly.

"Okay. So, dinner is through the common room. There are two house elves assigned to the dorms. They do dinner at six and breakfast from six to eight. They don't do lunch, but you can eat anything in the kitchen that isn't labelled or hexed. I suggest you do both for anything you leave there, or it will disappear. The elves will do your laundry if you put it outside your door on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Make sure you label your clothes."

Harry nodded that he understood. "Do you live here, too?"

Raven shook his head. "No. I moved out in September. One of the perks of being an assistant. Well, that and an actual salary," Raven laughed. "I have an apartment near to the Alchemy school. It's small, but it's mine, you know?" Raven grinned and pushed away from the wall. "You're going to be all right?"

Harry smiled. "I've faced worse," he said.

Raven nodded and opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, all right?"

"All right. Thanks," Harry said.

"It's good to meet you, Harry."

"Same here. Thanks again," Harry said and watched the man go, shutting the door behind him. 

Harry sat on the lower bunk and surveyed the small room. It was no smaller than the room that had been his when he lived with Severus, but this was devoid of warmth. The yellowing walls with the peeling paint clashed with the grey concrete floors and did nothing to help his desolate mood. His nervous excitement that he'd had upon arriving this morning was gone. Instead of being excited for this new adventure, he felt somewhat defeated and wondered if he'd made the right decision.

And was it his decision at all?

Harry ignored the question in favour of settling in. He did away with the lower bunk of the bed to make room for his trunk. A few flicks of his wand saw the room re-painted a soothing dark green that didn't clash as badly with the grey floors. He hung his robes in the wardrobe and put the important books on the small book shelf above his desk, storing the rest in his trunk. He'd nicked quite a few of the books he'd used when he first settled into Grimmauld place. Books that helped him break quite a lot of the lingering curses around the place.

He hung the picture of his mother and father on the wall and propped up a picture of Ron and Hermione on his desk. He hesitated before taking out his shoebox, which he'd tried to leave at Grimmauld Place, but ... couldn't. He set it on his desk and opened it to reveal hundreds of scraps of paper with various names printed on them. He pulled out a clipping of Severus, shaking hands with Kingsley, taken the night he was awarded his Order of Merlin. The night that their paths intertwined once more.

Harry sighed, staring down at the man's tight expression. Every now and again, Severus forced a smile that looked painful to maintain. Harry stroked the man's head in the photo, feeling heartsick and ridiculous. He slid the photo between two books and closed the shoe box before slipping it into a drawer.

Having tidied away his sparse belongings, Harry was as settled as he felt he could get. He considered going back out into the common room to try and get to know the people with whom he'd be working, but the thought of forcing himself to be cheerful just made him feel more miserable. He crawled up into his bed instead and gave in to the call of sleep.

A quiet knock at his door called him from his sleep sometime later. It was dark in his room and it took him a moment to get his bearings. He slid his legs over the edge of the high bed and jumped down, before opening his door to reveal a man he didn't know. 

"I woke you up," the man said with an apologetic smile. "I'm Icarus," the man said, with a lilting accent that Harry couldn't place. Icarus held out his hand. His other hand went up to brush back the fall of his dark fringe. His wide smile stretched below a large, curved nose. His dark brown eyes were kind and warm.

"Harry." 

"Yes, I know. You're a legend."

Harry dropped his eyes uncomfortably. "Er ... did you want to ..." He stepped back to allow the man to enter, but the man shook his head.

"I'm here to bring you to dinner. Raven said your first meeting with the group might have been overwhelming."

"I was a bit tired," Harry said dismissively. A yawn overtook him, followed by the sound of his stomach complaining that he'd not eaten anything since leaving Severus' kitchen that morning. He laughed and covered it. "I'll just put my shoes on."

"Don't bother," the man said. "We're not going far."

Harry followed the man back through the common room to a door that opened onto an enormous kitchen, with a long table that was already full of chattering people. The room went quiet as Harry entered. He recognised some of the faces from earlier, but their names had escaped him. Niamh, he remembered, sat next to Michel, the French acolyte. Meredith offered him a broad grin. 

Icarus led him to the middle of the table, where two chairs sat empty.

"Did you sleep well?" Meredith asked him from across the table.

"Yes, thanks," Harry said. Harry's eyes fell over the food, which looked foreign and unfamiliar, but smelled wonderful. He helped himself to couscous and some sort of meat dish. Slowly, the table started humming with conversation again. To his right sat a woman whose head was covered in a purple scarf with silver threads woven through that glinted in the lights of the room.

"I'm Malika," she offered. "A third year apprentice with Husef."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said. "Raven mentioned you earlier," he remembered aloud.

"Malika rooms with Niamh," Icarus added. "She has to wake up every day to pictures of your boyfriend."

"Shut up, Icarus," Niamh said resentfully. 

Harry nearly didn't hear her for the blood pounding in his ears. "He's not my boyfriend," Harry said irritably, deciding to stop this once and for all. "You can't believe half of what the Prophet prints about me," he insisted.

The room was quiet again. Niamh stared at him with keen interest now. "So, you broke up?" she asked pointedly.

Harry sighed. "We were never together. We're friends."

"I knew it," Niamh said, satisfied. "I told you," she added, glaring at Meredith.

Meredith laughed. "You're obsessed," she said, rolling her eyes. "She's obsessed," she told Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Why?" he said, dumbfounded. He knew why he found the man attractive, but that was something that developed over time, once he got to know the man. He couldn't imagine how anyone could have a crush on Severus without knowing him well enough to dismiss the man's irritable and crotchety demeanour.

"I'm not obsessed," Niamh insisted.

The room exploded into incredulous laughter. Niamh's face burnt red. "He's interesting," she said defensively. 

"He is interesting," Harry agreed. "Did you go to Hogwarts?" he asked, sure he'd never seen the woman before.

She shook her head. "Beauxbatons," she said. "My dad's French and my mum hates the British."

"Ah," Harry said, not sure what to do with that. That she'd not had Severus as a teacher explained how she could see the man as anything other than a total prick. But it didn't explain why she thought him interesting. "So ..." He shook his head. "You realise he's a complete arsehole like ninety percent of the time, right?"

"I've tried to tell her. She said it's part of his allure." Harry turned to see a vaguely familiar face at the end of the table. "Jenna Watson," she said with a smile. "I was a few years ahead of you in Hufflepuff," she said. "We never really met." 

"I recognise you," he said. "You were in Cedric's year."

"A year ahead of him actually," she said quietly. 

"Jenna is a third year apprentice with Master Winter," Icarus offered. His tone carried a hint of warning that Harry interpreted to mean he shouldn't get too close to his compatriot.

"The Prophet said you were living with him," Niamh said. Her eyes shone with keen interest.

Harry nodded. "I stayed with him for a bit."

"What was that like?" Jenna asked, equally interested now that the subject was broached.

"Not as bad as you might think," Harry said with a sideways smile. "A bit awkward at first, I suppose, but eventually we got to know each other."

"Why were you living with him?" Jenna asked. "I mean, it wasn't a secret that he hated you in school."

Harry stayed quiet a moment, unsure how to respond to that. No one knew about Severus' relationship with Harry's parents. Harry had never told anyone the whole truth behind Severus' motivations for turning spy. He didn't think Severus would want it to be common knowledge. He shrugged. "I don't think he hated me, exactly. He had a role to play, and he played it well."

It wasn't The Truth, but it was a truth. Harry hoped it was enough to appease them. "My house was the old Order of the Phoenix headquarters. It was once owned by the Black family and so, it's pretty dark. He worried about me living there and offered to let me stay with him," Harry summarised. "I didn't have anything better to do." He shrugged.

"But he is gay," Niamh said, looking to Harry for confirmation. "My mum knew a bloke who had a thing with him when they were young."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He's gay."

"Did he ever try anything?" Meredith asked.

"I didn't even know he was gay until the article came out," Harry said, blushing again. 

"Of course he didn't," Niamh insisted. "I told you. Harry's not his type."

Harry bristled. For someone who had never met the man, the girl seemed to think she was an expert. For a moment, Harry thought he'd take great pleasure in telling her where he'd slept the night before. "And what type am I?" he challenged.

"I can't imagine Snape has a type," Jenna said with a laugh. "Seriously, Niamh. You've never even met the man. He's greasy and ugly and just plain nasty."

Niamh glared from one Brit to the other and then lowered her eyes to her plate.

"He's changed a bit since the war," Harry told Jenna. "I mean, he's still a bit of a git, but he and I got on all right."

"Enough about Severus Snape," Icarus decided. "What we really want to hear about is how you managed to break into Gringotts."

Judging by the enthusiastic response, the others at the table were just as keen to hear the tale. Harry did his best to explain things without sounding like he was boasting. He tried to manage their expectations, telling them that he and his friends had got pretty lucky in the end, but as he described his escape on the back of a dragon, it occurred to him that it was a pretty spectacular tale, after all.

By the time dinner was finished, Harry felt moderately more comfortable with the group. Apart from Niamh, who had a permanent chip on her shoulder, everyone else was friendly. Harry joined a relatively small group in the common room after dinner. Despite the competition between them, it was clear that they were all good friends. He laughed along with the banter exchanged between Meredith and Icarus, listened to Sven talk about what Durmstrang was like, and paid no mind to Niamh, who ignored all of them.

He said goodnight relatively early and put a muffling charm over his room to block out the laughter filtering through his door. His mind stretched across the world to Severus, wondering how his Sunday had gone. He sat at his desk, pulled out a piece of parchment, and wrote a letter.

_Dear Severus,_

_I arrived safely. I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, but I suppose it's too late to change my mind now. You'll be happy to know that as an acolyte, I won't do anything more dangerous than research. They apparently don't let us do any real work. Of course, that doesn't explain how the boy I replaced managed to get himself killed, but no one seemed to want to talk about that._

_Apart for a few exceptions, everyone seems really nice. When I got here, Master Husef warned me that being gay in Egypt wasn't okay, and that was a little humiliating. I've spent a good part of the evening answering questions about the nature of our relationship. There's a girl here who is obsessed with you. When I told her that the Prophet didn't really have their facts right, she said that she knew it. I'm not your type, she told me confidently. What exactly is your type? And what type am I, for that matter?_

Harry frowned at the letter that had gotten rather out of hand and ripped it up. He started again.

_Dear Severus,_

_I arrived safely. Everyone is really nice here. I'm a bit worried about my timetable, as I have to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes to make up for my lack of NEWTS. At least I'll be busy. You'll be happy to know that acolytes aren't allowed to do any real curse-breaking, so you don't have to worry about me._

_I hope your Sunday was restful. Try and be nice to your assistant. Please write soon._

_Love,  
Harry_


	2. Chapter Two

"Harry Potter!"

Harry smiled awkwardly at the short, stout woman grinning at him enthusiastically and holding her arms out to greet him. He was pulled against the soft woman in a surprisingly tight embrace. "When Master Husef told me who my newest student would be, I could not wait to meet you!" she said, her voice bouncing along the syllables in a charming Italian accent.

"Thank you," Harry said, unable to stop the grin stretching across his face. "I'm pleased to be here."

She laughed. "No, I don't think so," she told him, releasing him at last and going to sit behind her desk. "If I were you I would be frightened," she said. She held up a piece of parchment that held his time table. "How will you sleep, eh? When will you study? You will be dead within a month."

Harry blinked at the impromptu prophecy. He slid into a chair across from her desk. "I'll be busy," he admitted, batting away the fury of nervousness that filled him whenever he started to wonder if he was actually capable of doing what was expected of him. The only consolation he had was that if he failed, he might be able to return to Severus.

It was a small consolation. If he'd learnt nothing else in his time with the man, it was that, to Severus, he would always be someone to look after. He knew in his heart that he had to be more than that. He had to find himself, to work out who he was now that his destiny had been fulfilled. 

"We are late in the term," Mistress Marchese told him. "You will need to catch up." She slid an intimidating tower of books toward him and laid his timetable on top. "I have paired you with study partners from your team to help you. This gives everyone more work, and there's already a lot of work to do. You must be prepared for these sessions."

Harry gave the woman a wary look before taking the piece of parchment and eyeing the annotations. His free periods, lunch and dinners were all dedicated to catching up. Each period had the name of one of the apprentices or acolytes he would be robbing of their time. His stomach swam sickeningly at the thought of being a burden to any one of them.

"Don't worry, Mr Potter. Most of them will be happy to help," she assured him. His brow furrowed as he saw that he'd be having lunch with Niamh tomorrow to go over basic research methods. "Just be sure to do your reading!"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said quietly. He never before wished so fervently he had Hermione here to save him. He could imagine that Hermione would be excited if faced with the amount of work he now had to do. The thought brought a rueful smile to his face.

A knock on the office door caused him to turn. Raven's head popped in. "Ready?"

"Good luck, Mr Potter. I will see you tomorrow," Mistress Marchese told him with a broad smile.

Harry thanked the woman and gathered the stack of books, which he held under his chin to keep the stack together. Raven chuckled at the sight of him and took half the stack. "This is insane," Harry sighed. "What the hell was I thinking?"

Raven shifted the books under his arm and pulled Harry's timetable from his hand. He whistled low at the sight of it and gave Harry a sympathetic look. "Dude, I hope you don't plan to sleep any time soon," he said with a grin.

"Cheers. You're a big help," Harry said.

Raven laughed as he ducked into a room, depositing the books on a desk, before sitting at a round table. "Don't worry. You're not the first acolyte who's come in mid-term. The teams are used to doing things like this," he reassured him. "It's part of the job."

"Really?" Harry asked, gauging the man's expression to see how true it was.

"Really. This is a dangerous job, and even though acolytes aren't supposed to really be exposed to the dangerous stuff, accidents happen all the time. Which is why we're here today," he segued nicely. "To make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Harry snorted. "I'm famous for doing stupid things, you know," Harry said with a self-effacing grin.

Raven's face grew suddenly serious. Harry's smile disappeared. "Seriously, Harry. We don't want to lose you, so you have to pay attention. Ellis was a really level-headed guy. He was the last person you would think would screw up like he did, but it only took one stupid mistake."

Harry swallowed. "What happened to him?" he asked.

"He forgot the first rule of tomb raiding: never do magic if you don't know what's in there."

"I thought acolytes weren't allowed in the tombs," Harry said, recalling what Zhan had said the day before.

"They're not," Raven said with a grim look. "We don't know why he was down there. Zhan was working down there when he saw someone go down the passage way. He followed, but by the time he got there, it was too late. There was some sort of magic-sensitive, flesh eating curse on the room that activated as soon as he lit his wand for light." The man shook his head. "It's the first thing you learn."

Harry frowned as a tickle of suspicion took spark in the back of his brain. "What was in the room?"

Raven grunted. "Nothing that we could find. But we're still excavating," he said. "Anyway, what you need to take away from this is two things: do not, under any circumstances, go into the tombs; and if you do, don't ever draw your wand. Got it?"

Harry nodded as the message encoded into his brain. "Did anyone investigate? It seems suspicious, doesn't it?"

Raven shook his head, but didn't quite meet his eyes. "Accidents happen all the time, Harry. That's why we spend so much time on the safety courses."

By the end of the hour, Harry had learnt that he wasn't to touch anything. He wasn't to look at anything, as cursed objects often held compelling charms to lure in would-be thieves. He wasn't to go into any of the holding rooms unaccompanied, or otherwise do what he'd come here to do.

Basically, Harry was to keep his nose in books and his head down until told to do otherwise.

Raven laughed at the observation. "In essence, yes. At least for the first year. Knowledge is power, Harry. You have a lot to learn, and we're here to teach you." He grinned and stood to help Harry cart off his load of books. "I'm pretty good at Arithmancy, if you want some help. I live around where you'll be taking classes."

Harry gave a sincerely grateful smile and nodded. "I'll let you know how I get on," he said. "I feel like I studied all the wrong things in school." Divination. Care of Magical Creatures. What had he been thinking?

Harry deposited his books in his room and came back out to follow Raven to his next course, which would be with Master Husef. Harry found he was looking forward to seeing the boisterous man again. There was something comforting about his seemingly endless optimism.

When they reached the door, Raven clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We all have an interest in making sure you get through this. We need people."

Master Husef greeted him with loud enthusiasm as he entered the room and ushered him into a one of a dozen desks arranged in a circle around the room. In the centre there was a stand of sorts with a golden necklace encased in a glass box on display. The other apprentices and acolytes trickled in. Harry sat and leafed through his text book, "Principles of Detection and Diagnostics." Michel slid into the seat next to him and greeted him with a quiet, "Salut, 'arry." 

"Hey," Harry greeted back.

He watched the boy set a smaller glass box on his desk with some sort of ivory broach inside, set in a golden frame. The other students had similar artefacts.

"Hello!" 

There was a disjointed chorus of variants on "Hello, Master Husef" before the room quietened again.

"Today, is a very special day. Today, we welcome the Great Harry Potter. We are so happy to have him!"

Harry sat, horrified, feeling his face go hot. He felt like hiding under his desk as all eyes turned his way. Instead, he smiled awkwardly and focussed on the floor in front of his desk.

"Harry has already had some curse-breaking experience, yes?"

"Yes, sir," he said quietly. When the man didn't speak, it occurred to Harry he was waiting for him to elaborate. "I – inherited a house from my godfather. It had quite a lot of dark objects inside and I've spent the last year or so trying to clean it up." It was, he knew, the reason he'd been taken on, despite his poor qualifications. Before today, he'd felt confident that he was well-suited to the work. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"And he is still with us!" Husef exclaimed excitedly. "How very lucky!"

Harry laughed along with the rest of the class. 

Husef quickly moved on to business, calling up each apprentice to present what they'd found out about the objects that were given to them. Some of the spells they spoke about for detecting dark magic, for determining whether the object was charmed or cursed, Harry already knew about from his own private study of the books in the Black library. Others – a spell for detecting layered curses, a spell for determining where on the object the curse is bonded – Harry had never heard of. He supposed Husef's surprise that Harry had lived through his amateur curse-breaking was not so funny after all.

Once the class had gone through the status of the personal projects, Husef walked to the centre of the class, standing next to the glass case. "In this case, is a necklace, sold to the bank by a family who have tried many times, unsuccessfully to get rid of it. Each person who has possessed it has fallen ill within a week. Every time, the object managed to return to this family."

"That's convenient," Harry said to Michel under his breath.

"Harry?" 

Harry flushed under Husef's studious eye. "It just seems suspicious, doesn't it? The family sell it, get the money, and then it comes back to them so they can sell it again. Why would they want the curse broken?"

Husef grinned at him. "Why indeed?" he said happily. "We have six days to break the curse!"

Harry's eyes widened at the news. His eyes turned back to the necklace, seemingly innocuous in its glass case.

"Michel, where do we start?"

"Research, sir. What happens to the people who buy it?"

"Very good! They waste away. The flesh melts from their bones until they are skeletons wearing a loose skin suit!"

The room was filled with the low sound of scratching against parchment as the students took note. Harry followed.

"What happens if they give it back quickly? Are the effects reversible?" Jenna asked.

"The effects are not reversible, but the degeneration stops," Husef said, obviously pleased with the question. More scribbling.

"Does it affect just the person who wears it?" asked Malika, hand poised to note the answer.

"The person who possesses it," Husef answered. "Whether or not they ever touch it."

"Who possesses it now, sir?" Harry asked worriedly.

Husef laughed heartily at his question, the sound reverberating against the ceiling. "I do!" he announced joyfully. 

The news didn't seem to bother anyone else in the room. Harry thought the man seemed insanely at ease with the fact that he might start wasting away at any moment. It occurred to him that perhaps Husef had already worked out the curse, and this was merely an exercise for the class.

The students fired off questions, seeking to get as much helpful information about the object as they could. They learnt that the necklace had been in the family for three generations. That the original owner in the family had been a wealthy wizard, who owned several ruby mines in Burma. The family did not have a reputation of being particularly dark, but were very wealthy. The necklace had been passed down through the male line. The way in which the necklace managed to find its way back ranged from simple – the person who had the necklace identified it as the cause of his illness – to mysterious – the necklace simply appeared in the family safe after the unfortunate owner passed away.

Before the end of the class, Husef turned out the lights and closed the blinds so that the room was cast in total darkness. Harry could hear Husefs steps and a low grating sound of the glass being raised. Suddenly, Harry's palm began to itch. A greasy sort of residue coated the back of his throat. He could feel the darkness radiating from the object. He could just make out a faint glow emanating from the stone, as though it pulsed with a heart of its own.

"Now everyone quiet. Listen to the magic. Feel it. Concentrate."

Harry wasn't sure what the man meant by "listen" but he gave it his best shot. He closed his eyes and listened to the stillness of the room. To the low, slow breathing of those around him. The oily, tinny taste of dark magic filled his mouth, distracting him.

"Meredith?"

Husef's voice was a mere whisper. 

"It's dark, but it doesn't feel like a curse."

"Hm. Expand."

"Well, it's not giving off anything."

Suddenly, Harry understood what she meant. With the various objects he'd encountered, he could feel a malevolent force radiating out from the object. With this one, he could sense the darkness, but it was more a pulling force. The more he 'listened' the more he could sense the object's purposeful thrumming. 

"Harry?"

"Er ..." Someone snorted derisively. Annoyed, Harry soldiered on. "It doesn't want to be here," he said. 

Laughter made him feel slightly stupid.

"Go on," Husef said. Harry jumped as a hand came down heavily on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Harry said, not wanting to make a total prat of himself. But he could feel it now, the purpose. "It's a bit like a Portkey, sir. And it takes the energy it needs to activate." Husef's hand squeezed his shoulder tightly before releasing him.

"Hm. Niamh?"

"I agree that it's not cursed. I can only sense one active spell," she said.

"Good! Anyone else?"

"Can you cover it back up, Husef? I'm starting to feel a bit sick," a male voice said from across the room. 

Husef's voice joined in the laughter. A moment later, the lights were on and Husef had put the glass cover over the object. Everyone in the room looked significantly paler than they had before. Jorg, a second year apprentice, looked green.

"Tomorrow we will try and identify the spell to save me from a horrible death, yes?" To Harry's surprise, he was the only one who didn't laugh. Everyone else gathered their things. "Harry! One minute, please." 

Harry stood and walked over to the man, cradling his book to his chest like a shield. He didn't know what the man wanted him for, but he felt pretty certain he'd misunderstood the purpose of the exercise. In his defence, Master Husef hadn't told him the type of information he was supposed to give. He only asked what he felt. While Harry had no idea if what he felt was real, he'd described it as best he could.

When the last of the students had trickled out, Husef turned to him with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Harry felt a bit smaller. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I didn't understand what you were asking."

Husef gave him a reassuring smile. "Sorry? No! You are not sorry. You do not need to be sorry. I asked what you felt and you told me. Tomorrow we will test your intuition, yes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"You saw Mistress Marchese this morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sir. Not sir!" He pounded his chest. "Husef. Please. We are a team! Mistress Marchese is not at all happy with Husef, Harry. She says I am trying to kill you! How do you feel?"

Harry had grown distinctly wary of that question. "Fine. There's a lot to do," he amended. Too much to do. "But I'm okay," he lied.

Husef's smile grew. "I like you, Harry! You are crazy like me, yes?"

"Yes?"

"Ha! Now, you should go before you are buried under a mountain of things to do!"

Harry laughed. "Thank you, sir. Husef." He turned to leave when his eyes caught on the necklace again. He had to ask. "Husef, the necklace. You're not really ... I mean, you know what the spells are, right?" he said worriedly.

"Of course I do!" Husef said. "I put them on myself!"

Harry felt undeniably relieved. "So, you're not really in any danger."

Husef's eyebrows shot up. "If I'm not in danger, Harry, where is your motivation for solving the puzzle?" He clapped Harry on the back and laughed heartily.

"But you can break the spell if you put it on, right?"

"I have faith in my students, Harry! You will save me in time!" 

The man was insane, Harry realised. A complete nutter. 

"Now, go and eat before Mistress Marchese accuses me of starving you!" 

Harry arrived back at the dormitory to find a scattering of apprentices and acolytes, broken off into smaller groups around the common room and kitchen. As he entered the kitchen, he found Icarus waiting for him with two sandwiches. The older man had forfeited his lunch to teaching Harry the principles of detection.

"Hi. Sorry about your lunch hour," Harry said pre-emptively.

The man smiled warmly at him and shook his head. "Don't be. I'm happy to help." Harry was heartened by the sincerity of the man's declaration. "I've made you a sandwich. I hope you like turkey," he said.

"Great. Thanks."

Icarus led him back to the main building, into a small room that had various objects on the table, encased in the same glass boxes that he'd seen during class. The two men settled on opposite sides of the table. Icarus set his sandwich on a serviette and swallowed. "So, you saw a bit of what we mean by detection today in class, right?"

Harry nodded with a self-effacing smile. "I think I got it wrong," he said grimly.

Icarus smiled. "It's your first day, Harry, and you've arrived in the middle of term. You were trying for diagnostics, which you'll see more about tomorrow. Diagnostics we do with spells, because it's not something you want to get wrong. There are spells for detection as well, but it's not smart to use magic if you don't know how the object, or the room will react."

Harry recalled his first principles of safety lesson with Raven. He nodded his understanding.

"So we're taught to use our senses to detect magical object and to distinguish between things like light magic and dark magic. Curses, charms and other types of spells. You can read the text book to understand the principles behind it, but the text book can't help you actually do it. So, we're going to practice. As an acolyte, you only need to be able to detect a magical object. By the end of the year, you should be able to feel a difference between dark and light magic."

Harry felt a strong surge of relief that at least, at this, he was ahead of the game. "I can already sense dark magic," he said. 

"You can?" the boy looked surprised. "Ok. Then, this should be easy for you." He stood and came around the table, pulling a scarf from his back pocket. "I'm just going to blindfold you. I'll open each of these boxes and you'll tell me what you feel," he said.

Harry set his glasses aside and closed his eyes as the folded, dark blue cloth came toward his face. The fabric was soft and smelled faintly of musk. Icarus knotted the scarf at the back of his head. "Is that okay? Can you see anything?"

"No."

"Not too tight?"

Harry shook his head. He could hear the other man take his seat in front of him, and then the slide of parchment over the table. The faint sound of a quill tapping against an inkwell. "Number one," Icarus announced.

Within seconds, Harry's throat was coated with the familiar slime of dark magic. He made a face. "Dark," he said instantly.

"Good," Icarus said. Harry felt the magic disappear. "Two." 

Again the tinny taste coated his mouth, but his attention was drawn toward something more pleasant. A feeling of well-being filled him that he instinctually knew would grow if he could only get his hands on the object. The object represented everything he could ever want, and he'd never wanted anything more than to possess it.

Some part of him tensed up, sensing that this was a trap. He wanted it too much. His brow furrowed in an effort to fight the compulsion to grab the object. He concentrated on the feeling. There was dark there, but there was a second vibration of magic that tried to mask it. "Dark," Harry said in a tight voice. "But there's something else there," he said. "Something light."

The magic cut off. "That was amazing. You didn't even make a grab for it." The man's voice held a tone of surprise and excitement that made Harry flush with pleasure.

"What about this one?"

Harry waited, but felt nothing. He stretched his senses out, feeling for a faint tickle of magic. Anything. As he concentrated, he could sense Icarus, pulsing with a magic of his own, but nothing beyond him. Harry sighed and shook his head. "Sorry."

"What do you feel?"

"I can sense you, but nothing else."

"And now?"

Harry felt a wave of warm magic radiating from some bright spot behind his eyelids. He could practically see the form of the object and knew it was the small statuette of a robed woman that he'd seen under the glass before. "It's light. It's the statue, right? I can see her."

The feeling was cut off. "You're going to be very good at this, Harry. We'll have to keep you locked up so the other teams don't try and steal you away. You can take off the blindfold," Icarus said.

Harry pulled the thing from his head and blinked at the assault of light. He put on his glasses to see Icarus grinning at him. The other man reached over to smooth down Harry's hair. "Perfect," the man declared, making Harry blush inexplicably. 

"There was one I didn't get," Harry said.

Icarus pulled one of the glass boxes toward him. It held a small dull coin. Icarus pulled off the top of the box and picked the coin up. "My lucky drachm," Icarus said with a grin. He held the thing between his index and middle fingers and showed it to Harry. "Alexander the Great," he explained as Harry ran his finger over the worn head. "It's only magic to me."

Harry smiled and gave the thing back. 

"Now," Icarus said, pocketing the coin. "Which is the most dangerous of these?"

"I suppose the second one. There's some sort of compulsion spell on it," Harry said. 

Icarus nodded pulling the glass box, which held a simple, gold pendant in the shape of an oval. "Which you were able to fight," he said. 

Harry shrugged. "Compulsion spells have never really worked on me," he said. 

"Have many tried?" Icarus said, looking amused.

Harry snorted. "Yeah," he said darkly, unwilling to expand on that subject.

"Well, you're wrong. Of the different objects, this is the least dangerous," Icarus informed him. "Were you to have touched it, you'd have fallen hopelessly in love with me." Harry's eyes widened. Icarus gave him a teasing smile. "But I'm a nice man. There are worse fates," he joked with a shrug.

Harry laughed. "I suppose it's good I was able to fight it. I haven't the time for love just at the moment," Harry said wryly.

Icarus laughed jovially. "There is always time for love," he declared.

Harry grinned before nodding toward the case with a small, tortoise-shell pill box. "So, that's the most dangerous?"

Icarus shook his head. "It's dark," he conceded. "There's a nasty curse on it that would make all your hair fall out and your skin break out in boils, but you wouldn't die from it." He pointed at the box with the statue in it. "This, however, would trap you in your most pleasant fantasy. You'd stop eating and drinking and die. You'd die happy, but you'd be dead." Icarus gave an ironic smile. "It isn't just the dark you need to be wary about."

Harry snorted. "Great. Because I wasn't quite paranoid enough already," he said.

"You did really well. On the bright side, we can cross detection off the list of things you need to catch up on. You're well beyond what is expected from a first year apprentice, let alone an acolyte. You can detect layered spells, which is second year stuff. You're a natural."

The man smiled and took up his forgotten sandwich. 

Harry spent the afternoon in his room, reading the first three chapters of the textbook for detection and diagnostics. He felt great after his session with Icarus and strangely thankful for the time he spent at Grimmauld Place. Without having lived in a house filled with dark artefacts, he might not be sensitive enough to easily detect them. Icarus told him that it takes most people years of exposure to various objects before they could properly detect the type of magic the object holds.

His initial excitement had waned considerably as he immersed himself in books. Although Icarus told him that the practical exam he'd be expected to pass weighed heaviest in terms of marks, the acolytes were tested on their understanding of the theories behind the magic. It had been two years since Harry had stopped going to school. His already dubious study skills had diminished significantly, and Hermione was no longer here to keep him disciplined.

The dormitories were quiet as the others were busy preparing for the upcoming bidding war. Icarus told him that the work on the bid from the apprentice side had already been done. Now, they were working on compiling all the information they could for when they won. Icarus explained that they had to make it look like they were still busy researching, so that the other teams wouldn't get suspicious. Harry had pointed out that if they didn't win the bid, they'd have done a lot of work for nothing.

"Oh. We'll win," Icarus had replied confidently.

By the time he could hear stirring within the dorms, he was practically cross-eyed from reading. He checked the time and realised that he had a half an hour to eat dinner before he had to find his way to the Centre for Alchemical Studies. He hoped one of the others could point him in the right direction.

He entered the kitchen to find it already full. He cast a greeting out to the room and slid into an empty chair between Meredith and Niamh." Meredith greeted him warmly. "How did the detection lessons go?" she asked.

Before Harry could answer, Icarus said, "He's an acolyte. He's got a lot to learn."

Harry met the other man's eyes. He understood suddenly that his abilities shouldn't be widely known. "But it's interesting," he told the girl.

"You'll get the hang of it," she assured him. "Once a month or so, we all get together and make a game of it." The sniggering around the table at the woman's remark was suspicious.

"What sort of game?"

"The kind that gets acolytes drunk," Michel said plaintively.

Meredith laughed. "An educational game," she specified.

Harry gave her an unconvinced look. Judging by the giggling at the table, he rather suspected a trap.

"Basically, you get blindfolded and set in the middle of a buffering field. We step into the bubble one at a time and you need to identify which person came in," Jenna explained helpfully.

"It's good training, but it's not exactly fair to the amateurs," Icarus said.

"It's not fair to any of us," Sven groaned. "I'm shit at that game."

"For each person correctly identified, a shot of something wicked gets added to a glass. If you get one wrong, you have to drink the lot," Niamh added.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Sounds dangerous."

"But fun!" Meredith insisted.

"Meredith just uses it as an excuse to fondle everyone," Niamh said with a grin.

"As though she needs an excuse," Icarus added, laughing.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Icarus," Meredith protested. "A show of hands everyone: who here hasn't been groped by our little, innocent Greek boy?"

Only Malika, sitting quietly at the end of the table, put up her hand. All eyes turned to Harry. "No one's groped me," he assured them.

"No one?" Astrid said with a wicked smile.

"No one here," Harry specified dryly.

Suddenly, a hand sliding between his legs made a liar of him. He jerked reflexively and grabbed Meredith's wrist, depositing her hand back up on the table. She offered him an innocent expression. Harry laughed. "I think I should steer clear of the lot of you."

"Wiser words were never spoken," Malika drawled from her corner of the table. Harry noted she was largely disregarded by the rest of the group.

"It was Bill Weasley who started the game," Icarus told him. 

Harry's eyes widened. "Bill?"

"You know Bill?" Astrid asked him.

Harry nodded. "He's my best mate's older brother. He's the one who introduced me to Husef."

Meredith sighed wistfully. "I wish I'd known Bill," she said. "It's a pity he quit to join your war," she said in accusation.

Harry snorted. "To be honest, I'm not sure it was the war that called him back. He was snared by a half-Veela." He gave a wry smirk.

"Fleur Delacour," Niamh said, spitting the name out like a curse. She shot a dark smile at Michel, who grinned at her.

"She's not so bad," Harry said. "A bit full of herself, but she's nice enough."

"Of course, you don't think she's bad. You're a bloke," she said. 

Harry frowned. "She never affected me like that," he said defensively. 

She smirked at him and raised her eyebrows. "So, you are gay."

Harry's mouth dropped open in mute protest. His mind grappled with some way to deny it without lying.

"Harry's impervious to compulsion," Icarus said, coming to the rescue. "I used the Satchkey pendant today. He didn't even try and reach for it."

Everyone looked surprised at the news. Meredith burst out laughing. "The Satchkey pendant?" she said incredulously. "Wow, Icarus. You're naughtier than I thought."

Icarus rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have let him touch it," he said, the corner of his mouth curving upward in recognition of the teasing. "I was ready."

"I guess you'll have to find some other way of making him your sex slave," Meredith laughed.

Harry choked on a mouthful of roast chicken. Icarus winked at him.

"Come on, Mer," said a girl Harry had never been introduced to. She had long, straight dark hair and a bright white smile. "Be nice to the poor kid. You're going to make him run screaming back to Britain." Her voice was thick with an accent Harry couldn't identify.

"Husef's team can't take any more losses," said a man with ginger hair and a large round face. His mouth twisted into a smug smile.

There was a momentarily uncomfortable silence. Icarus clenched his jaw. Niamh glared at her plate. "Have there been a lot?" Harry asked.

"Count your team," the ginger said. "You have no first year apprentices, only one second year."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"That is the question."

"Dani," the dark-haired girl rebuked. "It's enough."

The man smiled unpleasantly. "I just thought someone should warn him, Chana," he simpered.

"Hey!"

Harry turned to see Raven standing in the doorway. The mood in the kitchen grew considerably lighter with his appearance. "Raven!" Meredith said happily. "Slumming it with us plebes tonight?"

"I'm here for Harry," he explained. "Husef asked me to show you to the Centre." 

Harry deposited his napkin on his plate and scooted away from the table before standing. He'd nearly forgotten his classes tonight. His eyes darted back to Dani, who he decided he didn't like at all. 

"When are you going to invite us over?" Sven called out to Raven.

"When I want my neighbours to hate me," Raven said dryly. "I'll stop by this weekend, though. Anything going on?"

"We have a new member to initiate," Meredith said, her mouth twisting into a smile.

Raven grinned and met Harry's eyes. "Oh, dear," he said darkly. "I suppose I'll have to come just to keep him safe from you guys." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Ready?"

"I just need to get my bag," Harry said, slipping past the older man. He could hear the sounds of laughing from the kitchen as he entered his room. He stuffed the Arithmancy textbook into his rucksack and then turned to find Raven waiting for him.

"How are you feeling?" Raven asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not too bad," he answered. "A bit knackered. It's been ages since I've done any studying."

"It'll come back to you," Raven assured him. He put his hand between Harry's shoulders and urged him out of the dorms. "I've heard you've had a pretty successful day. Husef is even more excited than normal," he said, laughing.

Harry smiled. "It's good to know I'm not shit at everything," he said. 

"You're not shit," Raven told him seriously. "Husef wanted to get you started on your project today, but Marchese blocked it. You have to pass the first aid and safety courses before you're allowed to do any practical work."

"Project?" Harry said.

Raven nodded. "Each student is given an object at the start of term with a write up of previous owners and a skeletal history. The spells on it are different depending upon your level, but everyone has the year to work it out. If Husef thinks you're ready on your first day, you've done something right, Harry." He held out his arm. "Ready?"

Harry slid his arm through the second strap of his bag and then held onto Raven's arm.

It was after ten o'clock when Harry arrived back at the dormitory. Without Raven's guidance, he'd got lost in the maze of corridors at the Alchemy Centre as he searched for the Apparition well he'd arrived in. There was a moment when he thought he'd never get out again, but eventually he was found by a security guard, who helped him find his way.

He poked his head into the common room to bid whoever was still there good night. The room was mostly empty, but for Niamh, Malika and Icarus, huddled around a table. Niamh was speaking, but a silencing charm kept her from being heard. Harry hesitated, not wanting to interrupt whatever discussion they were having, but feeling like he should alert someone that he'd returned.

"Night," Harry called out. 

The three of them turned. "Harry," Icarus said. "We were getting worried."

"I got a bit lost," Harry confessed with a sheepish smile.

"It's a big place," Malika said with a kind smile. "How do you find Arithmancy?"

Harry laughed. "I'm not sure I understand enough to have an opinion," he said honestly. "I suppose I should go and study now."

Malika stood. "Wait. I have something that may help," she said. "Come with me."

"Malika!" Niamh said.

The girl turned. Niamh gave her a meaningful glare, and Malika laughed and shook her head. "He is going to see it eventually, Niamh," she said, amused.

"I can wait here," Harry offered, feeling as uncomfortable about seeing Niamh's shrine to Severus as Niamh was to have it shown.

"Nonsense," Malika said, pulling him out of the room and down the corridor. Harry could hear Icarus' mocking laughter, and Niamh's rather rude response to it.

Harry waited outside the door, looking in to see the woman wave her wand before a small shelf above her desk. It expanded to reveal three times as many books as should have rightfully fit. Harry wondered if his own shelf could do that, or if it was a spell of the woman's own devising.

He didn't want to look, but his eyes were drawn to the wall beside the bottom bunk of the bed, which was covered in photos and astonishingly good sketches of the man. Harry's eyes snagged on various headlines that were stuck at various angles over the collage. A familiar panic stirred in Harry's chest at the sight of the printed names. 

_SEVERUS SNAPE FOUND GUILTY,_ one headline read. 

_SNAPE'S A HERO, SAYS POTTER._

Harry stepped back out of the doorway, fingernails digging into his palms. He was ridiculous, he knew. What started out as a way of exacting a private little revenge on the press had become an obsession. A compulsion. Just now, Harry's hand itched for scissors. 

"Here," Malika said triumphantly. She turned toward him and then frowned at the sight of his expression. "Harry?"

Harry tried to push the vision out of his head. He tried to smile and thank the woman for her help, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. His chest felt heavy, his lungs refusing to expand to give him breath enough not to suffocate. His heart pounded as though he'd just been doing battle. He could feel himself start to hyperventilate. 

"I need ... lie down," he managed to say before fleeing to his room and shutting the door heavily behind him. He slid down to put his head between his knees. He kept his eyes open, staring blankly at the floor between his legs. Every time he blinked, the words were emblazoned there, mocking him. He tried to hold his breath to will his lungs to stop expanding with panic. Panic over nothing. Words. Just words.

He rocked to his knees and crawled to his desk, sliding it open to take out his box of clippings. His hands stuffed inside, looking for comfort in his own collection. It was enough, he told himself firmly. All the articles Niamh had saved, Harry had surely already clipped from. He had the words. He needed to calm down.

Harry rolled his head back against the wall and fought to bring his breathing under control. Severus had been right. Harry had lost the plot. And now, without Severus there to be his grounding force, Harry felt as though he might float away in his madness. His hand combed absently through the scraps in his box. He alternated between gasping and holding his breath and tried to empty his mind.

"Harry?"

Icarus' voice called to him through the door. Harry couldn't answer. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hand over the clippings, begging his chest to stop expanding like that. The back of his head dug hard into the wall behind him.

The door opened. Harry held his breath and forced himself to look over.

"You okay?"

He nodded, clenching his teeth as his lungs contracted inside his chest. The man didn't look convinced and made no move to go away. Harry's breath escaped him, his chest reprising the panicked rhythm. "Just ... go," Harry pleaded and sucked in another lungful of breath.

Icarus closed the door behind him and stepped closer to crouch in front of him. Harry's breath left him in a quick blast of air. The man's eyes went to the box and the scattering of scraps that had fallen outside it. Harry gave a small whimper of protest before reaching for the lid to close it again. He brought it to his chest and curled protectively around it. "Ic – " 

"Shh. Take deep breaths," the man said softly, hand stroking Harry's back in small circles.

The man's presence only served to wind Harry up further. He didn't want him here. He didn't want him to see. But he'd seen now and soon everyone would know that Harry was crazy. There would be more articles. It would never end. 

"Relax, Harry," Icarus said quietly. He moved to sit next to him, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulling him close. "Easy," he breathed when Harry struggled to move away. "Breathe."

Harry might have liked to point out that all he was doing was breathing, but couldn't hold a breath long enough to do so. Harry covered his face with a hand, digging his fingers into his scar and concentrated on willing himself to relax. Icarus petted his hair and continued to speak to him soothingly. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually Harry's chest lost the tension. His heart pounded a little more quietly in his ears. He coughed, his throat feeling like he'd swallowed sandpaper.

"I will bring you some water," Icarus said quietly and left Harry to do just that. Harry wiped his face and hurriedly swept up the scraps to deposit them safely in his box. He drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead into them, cursing himself for being an idiot.

The door opened and closed again. Icarus sat down beside him. With a heavy sigh, Harry lifted his head and forced a smile at the offering of water. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Girls' bedrooms are scary places," Icarus said with a grin.

Harry snorted and rubbed his hand at the back of his neck. "You must think I'm insane," he said quietly. He wouldn't be far off for thinking so.

"To be honest, I expected you to be crazier," Icarus said. "What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he said. "It's nothing, really. I probably just need to sleep."

"I know you're new here, but we are like a family. You can talk to any of us. We are all a little crazy."

Harry looked at him worriedly. "Icarus, I don't want anyone to know about this," he said. "It really isn't a big deal. I just got caught by surprise," he said in an entreating tone. 

Icarus rubbed his hand through Harry's hair before standing. He pulled Harry up. "I have told the girls you were feeling dizzy," he said. "Yes?"

Harry nodded. "Thanks."

"Sleep now. You can study tomorrow," Icarus instructed. "Good night, Harry."


	3. Chapter Three

Harry spent breakfast looking through his notes from his reading the day before. He apologised briefly to Malika and accepted her Arithmancy notes with a grateful smile. He couldn't quite meet Icarus' eyes, but the man was absorbed in work of his own, so it didn't seem to matter.

He arrived a few minutes early for his safety lesson with Zhan, which seemed to please the man a great deal. "Harry," he greeted him with a small smile. "I have heard your first day was very successful."

Harry smiled and nodded. "It wasn't too bad."

"Husef is eager to put you to work," he said. "He has asked Raven and me to accelerate these lessons. He would like you to make exams next week."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "But I thought these lessons lasted three weeks," he said.

"It is general rule," Zhan said with a shrug. "Important is that you learn and pass the exam. We go quickly, yes?"

Harry nodded, torn between nervousness at the thought of sitting exams and excitement at the idea of getting to work with the objects. "All right."

"Now, Harry. Just because we go quickly does not mean it is not important, yes? If you do not learn, you die – if you are lucky."

Harry blinked. "Right."

Zhan pressed upon him the same safety principles as Raven had the day before. Touch nothing. Look at nothing. Don't do magic. Stay out of the tombs. He added a few more general rules: Never go into the tombs or quarantines alone, never work alone with an object before knowing the nature of the spells on it. 

Once the general rules were covered, Zhan took him through the spells to contain the object. Once an object was removed from a tomb or brought into the bank, it was stored in the glass boxes that were imbued with containment spells and wards to keep the item from influencing the world outside it. The boxes contained the magic inherent to an object.

"In the detection lesson, there was a necklace," Harry said. "If the necklace stays in the box, does that mean it won't affect Husef?"

"Yes, I have heard of this lesson," he said. "No. I cannot say too much without giving away the answer. In this case, Husef has triggered the spell by bringing the necklace here. You must break it or he will become shrivelled old man." Zhan laughed as though it were some kind of joke.

Harry blinked, wondering if all curse-breakers were slightly mad.

"Don't worry. You will work it out in time."

By the end of the lesson, Harry had learnt to cast a containment spell like the one that was on the glass boxes. Zhan clapped him on the back and told him he had done very well. Given that Zhan didn't strike him as someone who gave praise easily, Harry believed him.

Harry made his way to the diagnostics classroom with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The idea that Husef might very well be cursed made him feel slightly sick to his stomach. He tried to take solace in the fact that he was the only one who seemed worried. While many who knew him thought him foolhardy, and while it was true that he never balked at facing danger when it was necessary, the cavalier attitude toward Husef's impending demise made Harry feel slightly ill-at-ease.

When he entered the class, there were only a few people in it. He greeted Sven and Astrid and nodded to three others he'd not met yet. He took a seat and looked at the seemingly innocuous necklace showcased in the middle of the room. He wondered if it had already begun sapping the life out of his team leader.

The room began filling up. Michel came in and took a seat beside him with a quiet, "Salut." Icarus came in, accompanied by Niamh and Meredith, and slid into the seat on the other side of Harry. Harry greeted him sheepishly, but nothing on Icarus' face hinted that he thought anything of the state he'd found Harry in the night before.

"How are the safety lessons coming?"

Harry smiled. "Good, I think."

Husef entered the room, seemingly surrounded by a whirlwind of energy. "Good morning!" he greeted the class. "I hope you have come ready today because my robes are feeling a bit looser, yes?"

A chorus of laughter filled the room. Harry didn't quite see the humour. He shook his head incredulously. Icarus nudged him with his elbow and grinned. "See, you're not the only one who's mad," he said so that only Harry could hear. Harry offered him an uncertain smile.

Husef walked to the chalkboard and turned to the room. "So! What do we know about our beautiful necklace?" He wrote the word, "Properties" on the board.

"It returns to its owner," Astrid supplied. Husef wrote, "HOMING."

"It causes anyone else who possesses it to lose weight," Meredith offered. Husef laughed. "This is good, yes? My wives feed me too well!" He patted his belly with a great laugh before writing, "WASTING SICKNESS."

"It works on dark magic," Michel said.

"Ah, yes. Very dark," Husef added, writing "DARK" on the board. "And Niamh felt one active spell, but not a curse, yes?"

"Yes," the class chorused.

He wrote the word "DIAGNOSTIC" on the board. "Now, we know what it is and what it does, and now we must work out how it does it, yes? Harry has guessed that the necklace draws power from he who possesses it to activate a latent relocation spell? He is very ambitious to do wandless diagnosis, yes?" Harry laughed weakly and tried not to characterise the chorus of sniggers as mocking. "Let us see if he is right!" Husef said with a teasing smile in his direction. "Jean, please."

A tall, thin, dark-skinned man walked up to the centre of the room. "What will we do first?" Husef asked him. Harry thought he knew the answer from his reading. Before beginning anything else, one was supposed to test how the object responded to magic. This would dictate the strategy moving forward. It was confusing to Harry as to how one might safely test the object's reaction to magic without putting oneself in danger.

The answer turned out to be that the protective glass worked only in one way. While it would contain the magic inside, it allowed for magic coming from the outside to pass through. Harry watched as the young man aimed his wand at the glass and shot a beam of light inside. As soon as the light shot through, it disappeared into the large ruby at its centre. The ruby glowed bright red a moment before returning to its normal state.

Everyone in the room scribbled on their parchment. Harry glanced over to see Icarus write "Absorbant." He wrote the word in his own notes.

One by one Husef called on the acolytes and the first year apprentices to practice firing magic into the box. A spell to confirm the number of spells on the part caused the box to light up like a lamp. A deep violet colour clouded the box before being drawn into the stone, followed by a white so bright Harry shielded his eyes. A dull green mist followed and that too was absorbed into the stone. Several of the students reached for their text books to look up the significance. Icarus noted "active dark, active protection, latent ??."

When Husef declared they had enough to go on, he split them into work groups, ensuring each group had a balanced mix of experience among its members. Harry found himself in a group with Icarus and a load of people he'd not really met but in passing. There was Jean, who was an acolyte for Müller from Haiti. Malachi was a second year apprentice with Winter. Daniel, the unpleasant ginger bloke from dinner the night before, was a third year apprentice with Müller. Clinton joined as the team's only first year and Niamh.

Dani led the group discussion, going over the observations. Jean, Harry and Clinton were given the task of researching dark spells that might cause a person to waste away. Niamh and Malachi were set to work on determining the type of protection spell that was on the necklace and Daniel and Icarus kept the mystery of the green mist for themselves.

It was clear that no one expected Harry to do anything constructive. Instead, he watched and listened as Clinton and Jean pored over an enormous encyclopaedia of dark magic. Clinton used a sort of point-me spell to find key words and Jean took notes. By the end of the lesson, each of their groups had a small list of hypotheses to work from. They were to carry on their research through the afternoon and come to the lesson the next day, ready to test whatever theories they'd come up with.

As Harry gathered his things and started off back to the dormitory, Niamh joined him. "We'll grab something quick from the kitchen and get started," she said. "We can go over the stuff in my room if you'd like. Now that you've seen the kind of freak I am." She gave him a wry smirk.

The very thought of Niamh's room made his chest start to constrict. "No," he said, too quickly. "I wouldn't want to disturb Malika," he explained. "My room's empty. We can do it in there," he said, trying to stay calm.

She gave him a funny look, but nodded. "Ok. How are you feeling?"

Harry smiled. "Better, thanks," he lied. "So, Husef doesn't seem too concerned that his fate is in the hands of a bunch of students," he said, eager to redirect his thoughts.

Niamh laughed. "He's barmy," she said. "I think this time he knows what spells are on there. If we don't work it out, he'll know how to break it."

"This time?" Harry said incredulously.

Niamh gave him a sideways smile. "Sometimes he brings in the work the Goblins give us. It's scarier when no one knows what to expect. Husef is one of a kind. You wouldn't see Winter or Müller doing something like that."

"I've not met them yet," Harry said. 

"Winter will take tomorrow's class," Niamh told him. "She's intimidating as hell, but bloody clever. Müller is ... special," she said with a wry smile. "You'll probably meet him Thursday, if not before."

"Special how?" Harry asked.

She laughed. "Oh, you'll see. It's not so bad for you and me. We've never known anyone different. But for Winston and Lisa, he took some getting used to. Bill left before I got here, but he was really popular. By all accounts, Müller is nothing like Bill."

The two made their way into the kitchen and poked through the leftovers from the night before. Harry made himself a sandwich from the leftover chicken. Niamh made a soup from the roasted vegetables from the night before. They took their dishes to Harry's room. Harry went in search of a second chair and came in to find Niamh looking at the photo of his parents.

"This is your mum and dad?"

"Yeah."

"You look just like your dad," she said.

Harry snorted. "Yeah."

"And these are the friends who helped you defeat him?"

"Hermione and Ron. Ron is Bill's younger brother."

"They have a sister, right? She was just drafted for Holyhead. Ginevra?"

Harry laughed. "Ginny. You're starting to scare me Niamh," he said jokingly.

She turned to him and gave a wicked smile. "Scared I'm stalking you?" Harry laughed. "I remember everything I read," she told him. 

"Everything?" Harry asked incredulously.

She shrugged. "Everyone has their strengths. But it's an insider's secret. The other teams don't know."

"That's one hell of a strength," Harry said, feeling vaguely envious. Studying would be a lot easier if he didn't have to read everything several times to commit it to memory.

"It's useful," she agreed. "Especially for research," she said, bringing them back on topic. 

Once they'd settled at Harry's desk, Niamh began to take Harry through all that "research" entailed. As soon as the teams were tipped off that the Goblins were negotiating a purchase, the various teams competed to gather as much useful information as they could. They normally began looking through the bank archives, which held information on the land itself, the families that had owned it throughout the centuries. They would either continue through the Bank's archives to find out more about the families, their holdings, their financial transactions, or they would take their efforts to the Centre for Alchemy, which had the largest library on the continent. 

Family histories were searched for any hint of what wealth they might have hidden. Mysteries were duly investigated. Myths and legends were often used as springboards for further research. 

By the end of her explanation, Harry felt daunted at the prospect of sifting through thousands of years worth of history to try and find gold, as it were. Niamh assured him that it got easier with practice and that there were loads of spells they could use to get through the annals relatively quickly. She looked up at Harry's book shelf and reached for A Dictionary of Darkness, which Harry had taken from Grimmauld Place. As she pulled the book down, the clipping of Severus receiving his Order of Merlin fluttered down to follow.

Harry felt a sharp stab of regret at the sight of the glowering man. It felt like weeks since he'd seen him, although it had only been two days since he woke up in the man's arms. The thought filled him with a familiar confusion and strange yearning.

"This was when he received his Order of Merlin," Niamh said, lifting the clipping up.

"Yeah."

She looked over at him. "You did well you know. Fighting for him like you did."

Harry snorted. "It was the least I could do. I just can't believe I had to fight as hard as I did," he said. 

She stared at the photo thoughtfully. "He doesn't fit into their box of what a good wizard is supposed to be," she said. "If when the veil had fallen, revealing him to be not so dark after all, he'd have suddenly brightened up and become kind, they'd have forgiven him more easily. I read the trial transcript," she said with a fond smile. "He didn't even try to hide his contempt for the Wizengamot."

"No," Harry agreed. "But the evidence spoke for itself. The charge they brought him up on was one everyone was guilty of. I used the Imperius curse. I robbed a bank. I did a thousand things that would have been illegal under any regime."

"But you are the very essence of light, Harry. You saved the world. No one would dare touch you. You fit into their boxes nicely."

The way she said it, Harry didn't take it as a compliment. "Thanks. I think you and Severus would get on famously."

The comment brought a broad smile to her face and a flush to her cheeks. "You think?"

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. "What is it about him? Don't get me wrong, I like him. But I had to go through a lot of layers to find something likeable."

"He defies expectation," she said. "I was still in France when word came out that he'd killed Dumbledore. I was intrigued to know what kind of man could not only murder the greatest wizard in living memory, but fool him for years. I did a lot of research into his past. His family. The Prince family. There wasn't a lot about him. My research dead-ended and I came here just after your government fell and Snape was appointed Headmaster.

"We all followed what was happening. I continued to get the Prophet just to keep up with the propaganda, but most of our real news came from France, Ireland and Germany. It was frightening to think all that was going on so close to Ireland. Frightening to think how close we all were to being exposed to the Muggle world and all that would mean. And at the centre of it all, the only hope anyone had was that you were still missing.

"I remembered thinking when the whole Chosen One thing came out how ridiculous it was for people to believe that some poor kid was going to save the world. But at the end, even I took hope from the fact that you were still at large. And then one day we woke up to find that it was over. Just like that. Snape and the rest of the Death Eaters had been arrested and Voldemort was dead. 

"If I'm obsessed with him, it's your fault," Niamh said with a grin. "All the letters you wrote, all the interviews you gave in his defence. Suddenly this man who had so easily fit into the evil box, no longer did. He was unexpected. Three-dimensional." She gave a wry smile. "And I have a thing for dark, unattainable men with big noses."

Harry laughed. "That explains it," he said with a grin. "Well, he said he might come to visit. If he does, I'll introduce you."

Niamh's expression turned horrified. "You can't tell him," she said. "He'll think I'm mental."

Harry grinned. "Well, you are a bit," he said. "I won't tell him," he promised. "I'm not even sure he'll visit anyway. He's really busy with his research at the moment, and he keeps driving his assistants away, so he's not got a lot of time."

"What was it like to live with him?"

Harry shrugged. "Not as bad as I thought it would be. He and I never got on very well, so I expected we'd fight a lot more than we did. He's a lot ... dunno, calmer than he was at school. At first, I just tried to stay out of his way, which only irritated him. So, we kind of forced ourselves to talk to each other until it got easier."

"I still don't understand why you moved in with him," Niamh said. "You weren't friends at the time, right?"

Harry gave her a wary look and then looked down at the crusts of his sandwich. "I lost the plot a bit," he admitted. "After everything. He came by my house to thank me on the night this was taken, and when he saw the state I was in, he politely suggested I come to stay with him," he said with a wry smile. "The thing is he's been saving my life since I rejoined the Wizarding world when I was eleven. He's not really got out of the habit yet."

She gave him a studious look. "Lost the plot, how?"

Harry shrugged. "I just spent a lot of time alone," he said dismissively, "In a cursed house with only a portrait of the most unpleasant dark witch who ever lived and her half-mad house elf for company. We're not doing a lot of studying, are we?" Harry said, eager to change the subject.

"Shit," Niamh spat, remembering their purpose. "You'd better get off or you'll be late. I'll teach you a few spells tonight when you get back, okay?" She stood and gathered her bowl and Harry's plate.

Harry nodded. "Niamh, I'd appreciate if the reason I moved in with Severus wasn't widely known. I try and keep my name out of the papers if I can help it."

She snorted. "If going a little stir crazy is the extent to which you're damaged after everything you went through, Harry, you're doing all right," she said wryly. "But if you don't tell your friend that I'm slightly obsessed with him, I won't tell anyone you're not the indomitable god they all think you are. If you want my opinion, it makes you a little more interesting."

Harry laughed. "But you're a freak."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she shot back before disappearing out the door.

The research methods lesson was held deep in the bowels of the bank, where their archives were stored. The place was immense and smelled like dusty, old paper. After finally being introduced to all the acolytes in the programme, Mistress Marchese sent them off into the stacks to pursue their individual research projects, which had something to do with the objects they all carried into the detection classes. 

As Harry had no object to research, Mistress Marchese set about teaching him simple researching spells and translation spells that would be needed to understand whatever he found. She set him loose in the stacks with the task of finding out as much as he could on the Hutep family, one of the oldest and wealthiest Wizarding families in Egypt. He had until Thursday to write a paper on his findings.

Harry spent the afternoon in the archives, practising the spells he'd learnt and sorting through the piles of information he found to put together a useful report. When he surfaced, it was already going dark and he had exactly twenty minutes to eat and get to his Ancient Runes course at the Centre.

He felt pretty certain his head was going to explode by the time he slumped back to the Common room that night to find a small celebration happening. "Harry, come and join the party!" Meredith called out as he stuck his head in.

"What are you celebrating."

"Tuesday!" the room chorused.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I need to get some reading done for tomorrow," he said regretfully. "And I have to revise for Arithmancy." And he had to work on his paper for Marchese. Sleep, he decided, was for the dead. "Have a good night."

He was woken up by Raven, having failed to get up for their morning lesson. The festivities in the Common Room were over long before Harry finally gave up getting his head around Arithmancy and climbed into bed. Raven shrugged it off and told him not to worry about it, but the rest of his day was thrown off by his late start. 

While he wasn't late to his diagnostics lesson, he was tired and unprepared to meet Master Winter. She was a woman as cold as her name suggested, with white blond hair and an icy blue stare that made Harry feel like his scar should hurt, even if it didn't. She was tall and thin with a slight German accent rounded with something of a Scottish brogue that made Harry think she must have spent time there. Although she largely ignored him, something about her made him uncomfortable.

The lesson comprised consolidating a list of likely spells woven into the necklace and testing these theories. The eldest members of each group took it in turns to fire spells designed to confirm hypotheses. By the end of the lesson, they were no closer to an answer.

He felt moderately better after his lunch with Raven, who went over the principles of curse-breaking. It surprised him to know that as part of his training to break curses, he would need to be able to cast them. Curses, in this sense, Raven told him, was a general term that could mean enchantment, charming, or any other spell that needed removing from an object.

He returned to the archives after lunch to do more research for his report, and then spent two hours revising for Arithmancy, using the notes that Malika had given him to try and make sense of things. To his surprise, the subject began to take shape in his head. He managed to do the exercises the professor had set them. Whether his answers were correct or not was a different question entirely.

Over dinner, Malika offered to have a look. He managed not to do too badly, having made an error in calculation for two of the questions. Malika took the time to explain where he'd gone wrong, which meant he had to run to make it to his class that evening.

It was a question of habit, he told himself firmly. After almost two years of having little to do but chores, he simply wasn't accustomed to the rhythm. It was pointless to moan that he was tired, or to lament that his brain was only capable of processing so much information in a day. He would soldier on because, well, what else was he going to do? He tried not to think about what was going to happen once he'd passed his safety exam and was expected to work in the afternoons with the rest of the team. He tried not to wonder where he would find the time to study.

Suddenly, Mistress Marchese's fear that the experience might kill him seemed that much more realistic.

The common room was surprisingly empty when he came back to the dorms that evening. Harry showered, brushed his teeth and then spent the night studying. He set a waking spell before crawling into bed this time, and, he swore, it went off as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Harry made his way to the diagnostics lesson after his safety lesson with Zhan. He found Icarus and Niamh lingering outside the classroom, talking. "Hey," he said. 

Icarus gave him a sympathetic look. "You are tired."

Harry shrugged. "A little," he said. He moved to go into the room and Icarus stopped him. 

"You don't want to go in there yet," he said with an amused smile.

"Why?"

"Master Müller is preparing the room." 

Harry peeked through the crack in the door. He could only make out the back of a man dressed in a smart, pin-striped suit. Terrible grating noises filled the room as the man moved around the desks. Harry looked back. "What's he doing?"

"All the desks have to be in a perfect semi-circle before he can start class," Niamh whispered. "OCD."

"Oh, see what?"

"Obsessive-compulsive disorder," she said. "You know, people who have to wash their hands a thousand times a day, or have to spin around nine times before climbing the stairs. Whatever you do, don't move the desk when you sit down. He'll go mad at you."

"Right," Harry breathed. Given his own neuroses, Harry wasn't quite as amused as his classmates at the man's anxiety. He thought he could relate. 

When the noise inside the room stopped, the crowd gathered outside went in. Harry sat down as gingerly as he could and noticed that everyone else did the same. When Müller turned to face the class, the word tidy sprang to mind. Müller's sandy blond hair was cut short and neatly parted on the side. His suit was pressed and his dark shoes shone brilliantly. He was tall and trim and wouldn't have been out of place in a Muggle bank, Harry thought. He certainly had none of the colourful flair of Husef. Nor did he have the cold beauty of Master Winter. 

"Good morning," he greeted. "I understand we had trouble making progress with our project, oder? You have new lists of spells to test this morning?"

With little help from Harry, his group had identified a small number of likely spells in the three categories they'd gone over. Müller went through each group and listed the spells that were identified on the chalkboard, using a ruler to ensure the lines he wrote were perfectly straight, while the students covered their mouths to suppress their amusement. Harry had no desire to laugh.

As most of the groups had identified the same spells, there was little discussion. They quickly moved to the confirmation phase. The third year apprentices were called up one by one to test the theories, and one by one the theories were invalidated. When Daniel went up to test the protection spell on the object, his spell shot through the glass in a blaze of red. The inside of the glass glowed like lamp for one moment, and the class held their breaths hopefully. Suddenly a blinding white light exploded from the ruby with a deafening boom.

Harry jumped and reflexively covered his head with his hands. He cautiously peeked out to see that the glass surrounding the necklace was riddled with cracks, but had held its shape. The class let out a disappointed sigh and the different groups came back together under their silencing spells to discuss. Müller began circulating the room.

"What aren't we seeing?" Icarus said with a frustrated expression. His face took on a faraway look. He stroked his chin absently with the feather of his quill. 

"It's the first time the protection spell reacted," Niamh pointed out. "It didn't like being dislodged."

"There's something else binding it," Daniel said. "It's backward. It should be the protection spell that holds the others together. This doesn't make sense."

"So," Müller said coming over to speak with them. "It is a puzzle, oder?" He looked pleased by their frustration. "What do you propose next?"

Icarus shook his head. "We need to see the structure," he said. 

"How can we when the thing sucks up any magic we shoot at it?" Clinton said miserably. The class had attempted to cast a mapping spell to see the blueprint of the spell work yesterday, but the spell merely shone brightly before feeding into the ruby.

"How indeed?" Müller agreed with a tight smile. "Very complicated, oder?"

"Maybe we should have another go at the detection exercise," Harry suggested. "Now that we know what we're dealing with, maybe we'll be able to make better sense of what we felt before?"

Daniel snorted. "We know all there is to know about it. There are three spells, one active, one latent and one binding. The active one is dark. What more do you think you can get?"

Harry shrugged. "You can get a sense of the structure, can't you?"

Icarus shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Harry."

Harry frowned. He may not have been as learned as those who'd been formally taught, but he wasn't completely new at this. Over the past few days, he'd learnt useful spells to do magically what he’d always done intuitively. "I don't know if you can get what you would from your mapping spell," Harry argued, "but you'll be able to sense the weave, right? If we can try and see what's holding it together, we have a better idea of what thread to pull to unravel it."

Judging by the way his argument was received, Harry decided he must be wrong. But he wasn't. He'd done it before. Icarus looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment and then shrugged. "We could try," he said doubtfully. He glanced at Master Müller, who frowned disapprovingly.

"Ach, bitte," Daniel growled. "We have no time to waste on nonsense. The acolytes," he began, sneering in Harry's direction, "will research dark spells that absorb magic." 

Harry pressed his lips into a grim line. He glanced at Müller, who gave Daniel an approving nod before continuing on to another group.

"But we have been through the book two times," Jean protested wearily.

"You have clearly missed something," Daniel said. He flicked his wand to enclose Jean and Harry in a silencing bubble. 

"We are not going to find anything else," Jean insisted. Nevertheless, he waved his wand to begin his search again. The book flipped open to pages they'd already visited.

Harry grunted, but said nothing more. He supposed he should defer to those who were more experienced, but he couldn't help but think they were going about this in the wrong way. He felt certain that determining the structure was the key to decoding the puzzle. Why was the active magic inherent in the spell not absorbed in the same way as the external magic? Why had the spell that was protecting the necklace reacted so violently to their attempts at dislodging it?

He looked up to see the others bent over a slip of parchment, deep in a discussion from which he'd been banned. He recalled what Raven said about the work of acolytes being shit, and he couldn't help but agree now. In his opinion, they were going about the problem all wrong. If the hypotheses were tested and proven to be false, they needed to question their initial assumptions. They needed to go back to what they knew.

Jean continued flicking his wand at the book, searching all the key words they'd searched before. "What if it isn't the dark spell that's absorbing the magic?" Harry thought aloud.

Jean sighed. "It's the only active spell, Harry. The protection is passive and the other one is latent."

"We only assume it's a protective spell," Harry pointed out.

"It showed up white in the diagnosis and it clearly deflected the attempt to attack it," Jean said in an annoyed voice. 

"So it has properties of a protective spell, but that doesn't mean it's its only function, does it? I just think we're trying too hard to work on this as three different problems, when we need to start thinking of the thing as a whole."

"The first thing you learn about curse-breaking is to break it into components and then map the components to find the structure."

"But we can't map the components because the spell is absorbed before we can get a clear picture."

"Harry, you are just an acolyte," Jean said. "We're here to learn. They've been doing this a lot longer than we have."

Don't touch anything. Don't say anything. Don't do magic. 

At the best of times, Harry was rubbish at doing as he was told, but Jean had a point. It was arrogant to second-guess people who had been doing this far longer than he. Sure, he'd done quite a bit of curse-breaking, but the more he learned, the more he had to admit that he'd been terribly lucky not to have gotten himself in over his head.

Despite his own sense of reason, which had joined the chorus of naysayers around him, he still couldn't help but feel that he was right.

By the end of the lesson, no one was closer to an answer. At the start of the week, Harry recalled that the atmosphere had been considerably lighter. Today, the class was considerably more subdued as they gathered their books and shuffled their way out of the class, defeated. Harry hung back to wait for Malika, who would be giving him an introduction to Symbology at lunch. She waved him off and told him she'd meet him in the kitchen, so Harry left.

He didn't look at Icarus, who'd ambushed him outside of the classroom with unwanted sympathy. "Dani is an ass," he said with a smile. "And being an acolyte is horrible. I remember what it was like."

"I'm fine," Harry muttered. "I'm just tired."

"No," Icarus said. "You're pissed off because you're not used to be dismissed like this." Harry gave an incredulous snort of laughter. "Harry, you are here to learn. That is your first job. We have been doing this a lot longer than you. Watch. Listen. Learn. Yes?"

Harry clenched his teeth. "Right."

Icarus stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. "Harry," he said sharply.

"Look, I get it. Bottom rung. I don't know all the principles of detection and diagnostics. I have never worked according to the standard methodology. But I know that whenever I've been stuck before, spending time with the part I was studying helped me find the answer."

"All right. Let us say that you could somehow sense spell structure intuitively. This would be a very cool gift, and someday, it would be very useful to the team. But not today. Today you must learn techniques. Rules. Basic spells. Methodology, Harry, is important. It keeps us safe and alive, yes? It's what helps us make sure that bank property stays safe."

Icarus offered an entreating look and Harry nodded that he understood. "It's fine, Icarus. Really." 

The man looked disappointed, but let him go. 

Having spent an hour getting an introduction to Symbology, Harry thought he should feel prepared for his encounter with Master Winter in the Symbology course. As he joined the acolytes and the first year apprentices for her lesson, however, it became clear that his second meeting with the woman was not going to be any better than the first.

"Mr Potter," she greeted him once class began. "I understand you've never studied Ancient Runes." Her thin mouth pursed into a disapproving line.

"I'm taking classes at the Centre to catch up," he said, although he knew she was probably aware of this. "I was on track to become an Auror," he explained.

"Yes. Chasing bad guys is what you do best, isn't it?" she said unpleasantly. "Which begs the question, why have you come here?"

Harry blinked. He didn't think "Fate" was an appropriate response. "I had nothing better to do" probably wouldn't cut it either. "I decided against going into Law Enforcement. Bill Weasley said there might be an opening here, and Master Husef told me I'd be able to finish my qualifications over here."

"And so you shall. But without basic knowledge of runes, I'm afraid you'll find yourself somewhat out of your depth in this class and in general. Your lack of knowledge will become a burden that the others will have to bear. There are reasons they are called pre-requisites, Mr Potter. I suggest you learn quickly.

He'd been here before, he realised. Suddenly, he was brought back to his first class with Severus, completely unprepared for the animosity someone he didn't even know could show him. Harry frowned and nodded. "Yes, Master Winter."

She ignored him after that. Michel offered him a small sympathetic smile, but it was clear that the other students wanted to avoid being associated with the subject of her contempt. A week ago, Harry had been in Britain, eagerly looking forward to a new challenge. Today, he wondered whatever possessed him to think he could manage this. He'd been persuaded by the power of Husef's enthusiasm. He let himself get carried away with the general urgency of fate.

He'd been sure that's what it was. It had felt right. Now he wondered if he'd been running away. From home. Britain. Severus. The boy who lived twice. Finding himself in this new context made him realise that running away from who he is would never be an option. It also occurred to him that no matter who he'd defeated in his life, he still didn't quite measure up.

Wondering why he even bothered, he went down into the archives for his research class. Mistress Marchese gave him a searching look and tutted disapprovingly. He traded his research report for another assignment and got back to work. When the rest of the class left to do whatever it was that real acolytes did, Harry stayed in the quiet, isolated stacks to start reading through his Symbology textbook.

An hour or so later, he heard the sound of boots clicking against the stone floor. "Harry?"

Harry debated hiding. It would be easy enough down here. A person could be lost for days without anyone seeing them. He longed for the days when he had Kreacher to ward off any visitors. The days when he could live in relative peace with his ghosts and curses. "I'm here," he answered, not bothering to call out as the boots were coming in his direction anyway.

Icarus came into view, carrying a rucksack and wearing a smile. "Come," the man said, beckoning him to follow. Harry sighed and shoved his book in his bag before following the man down a long corridor and into a small room. Icarus turned to him and set his bag on the table. "I spoke to Husef," he said.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked, a spike of anger shooting through him. "Why would you do that?" he asked furiously.

Icarus was taken aback by Harry's anger. "Because you looked miserable," he answered. "I wanted to help."

"I'm not miserable," Harry lied. "You didn't have to go to him. I told you I was fine with just sitting back and letting everyone else do everything. I'll learn. It's fine."

Icarus opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly. He opened his rucksack instead and pulled out a glass cube with the necklace inside. He set it on the table. "Husef wanted to let you try," he explained. "I didn't go to complain about you, Harry, so you should calm down, okay?"

Harry let a wave of sheepishness wash away the feeling of betrayal. Icarus had only ever been kind to him, and he surely didn't deserve Harry's ire. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It has been a long week for you, yes?"

Harry nodded. "It's not over yet," he said.

"You'll make it. It's not easy, I know. It is overwhelming even if you start at the same time as everyone else and don't have to take extra classes. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you. But all of us are here to help you, yes?"

Harry lowered his eyes and nodded. "Sorry," he said again. He was acting the prat. Everyone on the team had been helpful, even if they were forced to forfeit their free time to catch him up on all that he'd missed. He should feel more grateful to them instead of sulking around like a child because no one took him seriously.

"Don't be sorry," Icarus said, rounding the small table in the room to put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Shall we spend some time with our necklace?"

Harry snorted. "All right," he agreed.

Icarus went to shut the door. "Would you prefer to have the light off?"

Harry shook his head. "It's all right. I don't have a problem with the light, unless you need it."

"It's helpful for concentration, but Husef wants to see what you can do. I am here because Mistress Marchese would kill Husef if she knew you were alone with an artefact." He walked to sit on the other side of the table from Harry. He crossed his arms in front of him. "You should know that if you manage to find the solution, we have to tell everyone it was me, all right? I know that's not fair, but –"

"We have to keep our secrets safe," Harry finished.

Icarus' smile grew. "Exactly."

"You don't have to worry about me leaving Husef's team, you know. Winter hates me and I don't think Müller thinks much of me either," he pointed out.

"It is your first week and you have not spent too much time with either of them. It is part of the game. They will make you feel bad and unwelcome in the first few weeks because they know Husef needs you on his team, and it is in their interest to cripple the competition. Once you've proven you are strong enough to stay, they will court you. They will both try to win you away. If they knew how sensitive you already were to magic, I think they would try even harder. They can be very persuasive."

Harry wasn't sure he thought much of the game. The more he heard about it, the more he felt as though he'd been sorted into Slytherin after all. It just felt so mercenary. So ... unethical. He tried to imagine Bill in this context and failed. "I'm extremely loyal," he promised. "If I have one quality, that would be it."

Icarus looked at him for a long moment and nodded. "Good," he said decisively. He reached for the top of the box. "Ready?"

Harry nodded.

The glass came free with a quiet sigh. Immediately Harry could taste the dark magic. His eyes focussed on the necklace, trying to look past the dark to see the nature of the thing. His eyes slid closed and he concentrated on it until he could feel again a lower thrumming. An undertone of intent coursing through the more obvious magic. Stronger now, he could practically hear it. A deep bass hum of energy.

"It's changed," he said absently. "Can you hear it?" His eyes slid open to see Icarus watching him with an unfathomable gaze.

"Hear it?"

"Hm." He closed his eyes again and listened. The dark magic pulsed. It wasn't a sound so much as a feeling. Like a heart beat that pulsed oily, poisoned blood. A crease appeared between Harry's eyebrows as he tried to find the third spell. He was acutely aware that Icarus still watched him and while he tried to ignore the feeling, after a moment a small smile appeared on his face. "I've never done this with someone else in the room," he admitted, opening his eyes to see the man's soft brown eyes focussed on him.

"Do I make you nervous?" A smirk curled onto the man's face.

Harry laughed lightly and closed his eyes again, trying to find the magic and failing. "Maybe we should turn out the lights," he said with a grin.

"But then how will I see you?" Icarus said.

Harry gave him a bland look, and Icarus laughed. "All right."

The man waved his wand and the room went dark. The ruby on the necklace glowed, casting a red glow on Icarus' astonished face. "It didn't do that before," he said quietly.

"I think it's the spells it absorbed," Harry said. He stared at the luminous stone until he could hear the same bass note as before, the rhythmic heart of the dark magic. The longer he stared, the more he saw. He could almost envision the purple light of the dark spell, like an inky oil slick. He could envisage the green, brighter now than it was. He searched again for the third spell. 

He breathed slowly, quietly so he could hear it. He closed his eyes. A silver light shone behind his eyelids, buzzing with an energy of its own. Life and heat. It was Icarus. He refocused until he could see the violet. The green came back. He searched. 

Suddenly, he heard it. A high pitched whine almost at the limits of hearing. He gasped as he noticed the thread of it. A filmy gauze of white stretched seamlessly around the green, protecting it. Feeding it. It reached up through the heart of the violet and pulled the energy down into the ruby. The ruby fed the gold. The gold was getting stronger.

"It's not a protective spell," Harry whispered. "It acts like one, but it's more like a sponge, drawing energy." He could see it now. A wispy cloud of white floating through the wall into the room and down into the necklace. "Can you see it?"

"I can't see anything," Icarus whispered back.

"But you can sense it can't you? It's growing stronger. The green."

Icarus didn't answer for a long moment. "Harry, I still only sense one spell."

Harry twisted his mouth in frustration. He opened his eyes. "Do the diagnostic spell again. The one with the colours," he urged.

Icarus's face looked ghostly in the red light. The man nodded and performed the spell. As before the necklace was suddenly surrounded by a bright aura of colour. Violet was sucked into the stone, followed by the bright white light that lit up the room like a bulb. The green was no longer dull and no longer quite as smoky. It burnt brightly a moment before being sucked in.

Icarus raised his eyebrows. "It's stronger," he agreed. "That's really impressive, Harry," he said seriously. "But it doesn't help us define what it is."

Harry nodded. "I'm pretty sure the dark spell is the one that makes the person sick. It's what's drawing the energy in. The white stores it. Like a battery that gives the ... green bit power. It ties the two spells together. I imagine it's activated over time when the necklace is distanced from –"

"The family."

Harry nodded. "Or the safe? Husef said the necklace finds itself in the safe once the person who has taken it dies."

"A Portkey," Icarus said in wonder. He stared at Harry a long moment. "If you are right ..." he breathed. Suddenly his face broke into a wide grin. "You're a genius."

Harry grinned and tried to reign it in. A frisson of excitement stirred in his chest, and he tried to ignore that, too. "I may not be," he pointed out modestly. "And even if I am, I have no idea how to break it."

Icarus laughed. "That's my job. I'll go and look up spells that store energy. If we're going to de-activate it, we need to attack the power source." He covered the thing again and Harry turned on the lights. "You're amazing," Icarus said.

Harry flushed. "I have a lot to learn," he said awkwardly.

"I can't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when they realise that you were right all along." Icarus shoved the cube in his bag and stood. 

Harry followed suit and shouldered his bag, feeling significantly better than he had an hour ago. Icarus reached up to muss his hair. "I will never doubt you again," he promised. "I'll go to the centre tonight to look into this. We'll go together?"

Harry's high after his session with Icarus was short-lived. After a quick dinner, he and Icarus made their way to the centre, Icarus to go to the library and Harry to his Ancient Runes class, for which he'd not done his revision. The professor told him off, and he was back to feeling incompetent again.

Icarus was in the common room when he got back, lounging sideways in a chair with a scattering of books in a wide circle surrounding him. Niamh sat in her usual spot near the door, the tinny sound of drums just audible from her earphones. Sven and Daniel were holding a private conversation within a silencing bubble, and Michel sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, studying.

"Good night," Harry called to the room and then retreated to his own to try and cram more into his tired brain. Harry called out when a knock sounded at his door an hour or so later. He spun around his desk chair to see Icarus slip through. 

"Eureka," he said with a grin. 

"You worked it out?"

"I think so. Dani is going to hate me," he said, looking pleased with the prospect. "I feel bad for taking the credit."

Harry shrugged. "It was a group project, right? At least Husef isn't going to die."

Icarus laughed. "Husef will outlive all of us." He walked further into the room and leant back against Harry's desk. "I talked to him when I brought the necklace back. He wouldn't confirm what you found, but he told me again that no one could know about you. 'He will be a very powerful weapon, yes?'" Icarus said in a passable impression of their team leader.

Harry snorted. "I can't even get my head around runes," he said darkly. "Never mind Arithmancy and Symbology." He ran his hands over his face and slumped back in his chair.

"I remember taking runes in school," he said with a smile that was loaded with some wicked meaning that didn't seem quite appropriate to the subject. Harry gave him a curious look. Icarus laughed and shook his head dismissively. "You should sleep. You have all weekend to study," he pointed out. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Icarus."


	4. Chapter Four

"Good morning. I trust you have all come with some idea how to solve this riddle," Master Müller said when the class resumed. The necklace sat on the platform in the centre of the class, under its protective casing. As the day before, he went around the class, noting the list of spells that each team proposed to test. The lists were significantly smaller than the days previous, each group grappling for ideas. Icarus reported for their group and Müller turned to the board to note it down without even a flicker to suggest they'd got it right.

One by one the third years came up to test theories and went back to their seat, defeated. Just as Icarus was about to take his turn, the door opened and Husef strode in looking a little paler than he'd been the last time Harry saw him, but the energy that followed him was undiminished.

Müller looked perturbed by the disturbance. Harry could see the man go tense as Husef pulled a desk out of line to slip inside. "Please," he said, gesturing at Müller to continue. "I only come to see if I should begin updating my will or not, yes?" he said cheerfully.

Müller nodded tersely and turned his back to Husef. Husef met Harry's eye and winked as Icarus approached the necklace. Icarus rounded the podium with a concentrated expression, sending small bursts of purple light through the glass. The necklace shifted as the magic prodded it before fizzling out. Icarus's smile grew wider when the necklace lifted up, hanging suspended in the box a long moment before setting itself back down. "There it is," he muttered. His wand swished in a larger movement before jabbing toward the glass. A bright purple streak penetrated through the glass. Once again the necklace lifted. The ruby glowed brightly a moment before a burst of light lit up the box, blocking the necklace from view.

Husef clapped enthusiastically. The other students followed with uncertain expressions. "Very good, Icarus. Very, very good!" Husef said, standing now and coming to stand just behind Harry. He clapped his hand over Harry's shoulder and jostled him excitedly. "Now, tell us what you have found!"

If Master Müller was put out by Husef taking over his lesson, Harry couldn't tell. The man walked over to the newly abandoned desk and discreetly slid it back into place. As Icarus stood before the class to explain what they'd discovered, Harry could feel eyes flickering toward him. "Bloody hell, Harry," Niamh said under her breath when Icarus finished his explanation.

Husef's squeezed his shoulder before striding between the desks to pat Icarus on the back. "My wives and children thank you, my friend," he said jovially. "This was a very complex spell, yes? I am a very clever man, yes?" He gave a loud laugh and then called on the other third years to come and remove the now inactive relocation spell from the necklace. 

Icarus slipped into the seat on the other side of Harry. He leant in so close, Harry could feel the man's lips brush his ear, sending a surprisingly violent shiver down his spine. "I'll find a way to make it up to you," he said.

Harry lowered his eyes and tried not to grin too smugly.

After the success with class, Harry joined Icarus and Niamh for lunch. Icarus decided that the diagnostics lesson could be moved to Monday in place of the scheduled detection tutoring. Within the privacy allotted by a silencing charm, Icarus confessed the truth behind his fortuitous discovery to Niamh.

She stared at Harry, gobsmacked. "Fuck, that's useful," she breathed.

Harry snorted. "I think I'd trade it for your talent in a second," he said, quite sincerely. Remembering everything he read with little effort would be a welcome change. "None of it will matter if I can't get through Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"You'll make it," Niamh said confidently. "If we have to invent a spell to make the shit stick in your brain, we'll get you through." Her smile turned wicked when she met Icarus' eyes. "Icarus has good tips for remembering runes, don't you?"

Icarus laughed and lowered his eyes to his plate. "Be nice, Niamh. We can't afford to scare him off."

Harry eyed the two suspiciously. "I really don't want to know what that's all about, do I?" he said, remembering the expression on Icarus' face when he began reminiscing about studying Ancient Runes.

Niamh nudged him in the ribs. "I have a feeling you'd be interested," she said slyly.

Harry hated the heat that rose to his face. He stared hard at his plate and pointedly did not look at Icarus. He wasn't interested, he'd have liked to point out. In anyone. Objectively, he could see that Icarus was attractive; but Harry had spent years willing away his mutinous libido. He'd been mostly successful.

He didn't like to wonder how successful he could continue to be in an atmosphere like this, where he got the impression people shagged one another just to pass the time.

"Niamh," Icarus chided softly. He gave her a firm look.

She rolled her eyes, but put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You take away all my fun," she sighed.

Icarus snorted. "Come on. We'd best get to the tombs," Icarus said, waving his plate away before standing. "Harry, Husef wants you to work on studying for that safety exam, okay? You should be ready to take it next week."

Harry nodded and rid himself of his own plate. He'd thought to work on the new research project that Mistress Marchese gave him, but as the weekend stretched before him, he felt like he had the space to rearrange his study schedule. As he followed the other two out of the kitchen, an owl swooped in and dropped an envelope at Harry's feet. At the sight of the tight, angry script, Harry's chest clenched painfully. A contradictory explosion of joy in his gut left him feeling confused, indeed.

Niamh had stopped to look on her way out. She watched Harry bend to pick up the envelope with avid interest. "Is it him?" she asked.

"Him, who?" Icarus asked, glancing at the envelope.

"Severus. Yeah," Harry said with a smile.

"Oh. _Him._ " Icarus gave Niamh a teasing grin.

Niamh looked to be stuck in a debate with herself. Finally, she blurted, "Can I read it?"

Harry was saved from having to answer by Icarus pulling her firmly through a door. Harry could hear him chastising her as they left the building. Harry took the letter to his room and stared down at it a long time. He was nervous. He wondered if Severus would bring up their last night together. He wondered if he would explain it away, or if he would confess that he had similar feelings. He wondered what he would do if Severus did.

Harry took a steeling breath and opened it.

_  
Dear Harry,_

_Writing this, I can't help but wonder if your impulse to erase us from written history extends to correspondence._

_I'm pleased to know you arrived safely. While I appreciate the sentiment behind your reassurance that acolytes are in no danger, I am not an idiot. I know for a fact that the boy you rushed off to replace met with an unfortunate accident after having found himself in a place he was not allowed to go. Given your tendency to repeatedly ignore any rule placed on you, I can only hope that your propensity to survive against all odds will continue. I realise that my concern for your safety irritates you. You will have to learn to live with it, as I have done._

_I woke up this morning to find myself out of tea. I blame you. Shopping is your job, and now that you have abandoned your duties to go in search of certain death, I shall have to rearrange my schedule to find the time to devote to domestic maintenance._

_I've hired a new assistant. I suppose it's encouraging that she's still here after facing me on a morning when I woke up with no tea. I admit to being particularly irritable of late, but I'm making an effort not to take it out on her. She is meticulous, clever and does precisely what I tell her to do, and that is a rare combination of qualities. I shall try and keep her._

_Please try and stay out of trouble. I am interested to know how your first week went. You'll forgive me if I'm hoping you hate it and are eager to come home._

_Yours,  
Severus  
_

 

Harry woke up when the door to his room was opened. He squinted against the merciless light and looked over the edge of his bed.

"There you are," Icarus said, looking relieved. "I came in here earlier and didn't see you."

Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I was sleeping," he said needlessly. "What time is it?"

"Eight."

Harry grunted in surprise. "I suppose I needed the kip," he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and hopping down. "Sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone." He'd studied a bit after reading Severus' letter, trying to put his disappointment out of his mind and failing miserably. He didn't know why he expected the letter to be anything other than a reminder not to get himself killed. It was Severus, after all. Despite Harry's attempt to reason with his inflated expectations, despite the fact that his very reason for being here was so that Severus would eventually see him other than he did now, the letter left him feeling depressed and sullen. He gave up studying and went to bed to sulk.

"Well, you've missed dinner, but not the party," Icarus said with a smile. 

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I might give it a miss," Harry said, trying for a regretful tone. "I should have spent the afternoon studying." It was as good an excuse as any. 

Icarus grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door. "You're the reason for the party," he pointed out. "The books will still be there tomorrow."

Harry dug his heels in and pulled out of Icarus' insistent grasp. "So, will the work," Harry pointed out. "I'm sure you can come up with some other reason to carry on without me."

"Harry –"

"Is he there?" Raven said, coming up behind Icarus. Raven looked in and gave him an easy smile. 

"He says he prefers to study," Icarus said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Raven grinned. "Are we giving him a choice?" 

"I'll take the top half," Icarus answered. "You get the feet." Both men took a step toward Harry. 

Harry stepped back, holding his hands out. "I'll walk" he laughed. "I don't suppose another hour is going to make much difference," he admitted with a sigh. If he was going to be forced into being sociable, he preferred to go willingly and spare himself the embarrassment of being carried.

"I knew you'd come around," Icarus said, sliding his arm around Harry's shoulders and guiding him out his bedroom door. Harry didn't register the lack of noise coming from the Common Room until he stepped through the silencing spell. He cringed at the sound of raucous laughter. It appeared that most of the residents had turned up for the affair and all of them were arranged around the room in a circle. At the centre, Michel stood blindfolded, his brow pulled down in concentration. Astrid was doing her best to distract him from his purpose. Harry watched as the woman stood behind the acolyte and ran her tongue up the length of his neck. Her fingers teased the man's nipples through his t-shirt.

Harry's stomach gave a sickening lurch. He took a step back reflexively and collided with Raven, who stood behind him. Raven's hands went to his shoulders. Icarus thrust a beer into his hands.

"Niamh," Michel said finally. He pulled down the blindfold and twisted to confirm the theory. "Merde!" he exclaimed loudly and rubbed his hand over his face. "I hate this game."

Astrid gave a wicked laugh and pushed Michel forward to where Meredith held out a tall, narrow glass, half full with Firewhisky. Meredith pulled the Frenchman down to sit beside her and tossed the blindfold to Icarus.

Icarus turned to Harry. 

"No way," Harry said when it became clear what the intent was. "I'm not even sure I know everyone's name," he said in a slightly pleading voice.

A chorus of encouragements were thrown at him from the crowd. Raven pushed him toward the centre. "Tradition, dude," he said with a smile. "It's your initiation. You don't have a choice."

As he entered the circle, he could no longer hear the crowd, but he could see them laughing at his weak protests. "You'll do fine," Raven promised, although they both knew Harry would fail miserably. The man slipped the blindfold over his eyes and Harry found himself enclosed in a still darkness. He could feel Raven leave the circle. He clenched his hands at his sides and waited like a man condemned.

It was a relief when he felt the presence of someone in the circle with him. His nervousness about what that person might do to him hampered his ability to cast his senses out to identify that person. When no one touched him, Harry began to relax and focus. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a cloud of hot, whisky-scented breath against his face.

The sooner he said a name, the quicker this would be over. He frowned as he tried to visualise the person present, but nothing came. He'd never tried to sense people in the same way as curses, and there were no tell-tale signs of dark magic to stir his imagination. A tug at his hair. A light, feathery touch traced the jagged path of his scar. Judging by the touch, he decided the person was probably male, which didn't really make things easier. The person had to be roughly his height for the breaths to be so perfectly matched to cloud with his own. 

The breath moved away and Harry could feel the person move behind him. He shivered reflexively as the breath now clouded against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. It called to mind Ginny and how she would routinely make use of that same spot to drive him crazy. But that was before. Before a Killing Curse made him gay.

When he felt lips brush that spot, an alarming spike of sensation rocketed through him, stirring something inside him that Ginny had no longer been able to reach. Harry gasped and clenched his fists that much tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold and decided to put an end to the torture. "Michel," he guessed, having only the whisky breath to go from.

"Bien fait," Michel laughed, patting him on the back. When Harry reached up to pull off the blindfold, Michel stopped him. "Not yet. You have to do it three times."

Harry groaned miserably. Michel joined the crowd at the periphery of Harry's hell. Seconds later another presence entered. This time, Harry knew immediately who it was. It was likely the only person he'd spent enough time with to recognise in this way. "Icarus," he said quickly, before the touching could get started. 

His guess was confirmed by a light laugh. Icarus stepped swiftly out of the circle.

The third person who entered didn't give Harry time enough to even try and recognise them. Within a second, Harry felt hands stroking up his legs, thumbs sliding firmly up the insides of his thighs. He had no idea if the hands belonged to a witch or a wizard, and his libido didn't seem to care one way or another. His body reacted as any normal nineteen-year-old male body would react to the feeling of fingers inching their way toward his bollocks.

"Meredith," he breathed, because it was as good a guess as any. She was certainly brazen enough. He pulled his blindfold down to see Sven grinning up from where he knelt before him. He knew it would take him weeks to wash the sight from his brain. "Fuck," he sighed. 

Sven grabbed Harry's hips to pull himself up and then pushed him toward where Meredith grinned at the edge, holding out the same tall glass, three-quarters full of flaming spirits. "Bottoms up," she said and pulled him down into the same place Michel had been sat after his ordeal.

"Believe it or not, we were trying to be kind to you," Meredith said, laughing. "We put you after Michel because we expected you'd get it wrong straight away. Then you'd only have one shot to down. Now you have three."

"You're saying I'm being punished for getting it right?" Harry said incredulously. 

"It's all a matter of perspective," she said sagely. "Drink up."

Harry drank as he watched Jenna take her place in the circle. He shuddered as the liquid burnt through him. He'd developed a fair tolerance for the stuff when he lived with Severus. The taste brought back the nights spent sitting in front of the fire playing chess or talking well into the night about everything and nothing in particular. He took another deep drink to try and drown the memory and the ache that went along with it.

As he watched Jenna get prodded, fondled and otherwise manipulated, Meredith gave him a running commentary over the laughs of the audience. "Mostly, those of us with enough experience, get to know people by their patterns. It's incredibly hard to distinguish one person from another just judging by their magic alone. Certain people you work closely with you'll recognise. Everything else is guess work," she explained.

Harry nodded. "I guessed Michel from the smell of the whisky," he confessed. "I recognised Icarus from the detection lessons."

"That's pretty impressive," she said. "Some people are more sensitive than others of course, but even the best of us need a lot of exposure to someone to recognise them like that."

Harry realised that his comment may have exposed something he was meant to keep secret. The thought made him feel tired. All the intrigue and secrecy. He shrugged. "He's the only one I've ever really been alone with like that," Harry said dismissively. "It was a lucky guess."

She gave him a doubtful smile, but didn't call him on his dishonesty. Harry finished off his glass. Jenna left the circle, victorious. Meredith urged Harry out of what she called, "The seat of shame." Harry went back to where Raven stood, holding his beer, and leant against the wall as another went to stand in the circle.

"This is mad," he said, shaking his head.

"But fun," Raven answered. "We work hard during the week. Parties like this make it easier. You did well."

"Too well, right?"

Raven shrugged.

"I didn't realise that it would be less painful to get it wrong on the first go," Harry said.

"Ah, but you don't want to throw the game," Raven said. "That would be cheating. Where's the fun in that?" 

"Fun," Harry repeated dully. But if he were honest, now that he was out of the spotlight, he was having fun. The whisky served to sear through his nerves, leaving him relaxed and smiling. He laughed as Jean failed to correctly identify his tormentor and so took his spot to drink a full glass of whisky.

The night wore on and somehow Harry found himself wedged between Niamh and Jenna on the sofa, watching Icarus take his place in the centre of the circle. Raven stepped forward to prepare to go in. "The key is to change tactics every time. Don't do what they would expect from you," Niamh told him.

Her words barely stroked his mind, which was rather drawn up in watching Raven run his tongue across Icarus' mouth. "You also need to be sure not to give anything away. Like, Raven wouldn't kiss Icarus, because Icarus would feel his lip ring. I have to pull my hair back when I go in," she continued. Harry wasn't listening to her. His ears perked to the sound of a low groan as Raven pressed his palm to the front of Icarus' trousers. Harry's own trousers grew a little tighter. 

Icarus's mouth stretched into a drunken smile. "You staying here tonight, Raven?" he asked.

Raven chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to the man's mouth before leaving the circle.

"Your turn, Harry," Niamh insisted. She pushed him from the seat into which he'd been melting. Before Harry could get his drunken brain to compute what was happening, he was standing outside the circle. "Don't be too hesitant. He'll know it's you."

Harry looked at her in horror. "I can't," he said quickly.

She grinned. "Of course you can. You'll have to do it at least once tonight. It might as well be someone you're comfortable with," Niamh told him before pushing him inside.

Someone he was comfortable with. He might have agreed under any other circumstances, but in this particular case, he felt he might be more comfortable with just about anyone else. He felt slightly dizzy as he stepped forward. He kept his mouth closed and breathed through his nose to keep the whisky from giving him away. He stared at Icarus, at the wide, smiling mouth. The long arched nose with the black blindfold lying gently over it. He had to touch him. He had no idea how to touch him.

Harry lifted his hand and tugged gently at a tuft of dark brown hair that fell over the man's forehead and swept over his left eye. He let his fingers run back behind the man's head, and brush lightly at the shell of his ear. Icarus let out a breath and shivered. Harry grinned at the response. He let his short fingernails graze the length of the man's neck. His fingertips grazed the rough skin of Icarus' jaw before coming up to brush the full lips. 

Harry's breath hitched when Icarus' tongue came out to flick over his fingertips. Lips closed over two, Icarus' head came forward to suck Harry's middle finger into a warm, wet mouth. Harry's stomach jumped, causing a breath to escape out his mouth in a harsh puff. Icarus' tongue swirled around the digit, inciting Harry's imagination to make logical extensions. It belatedly occurred to Harry to withdraw his fingers. He stood frozen.

"Welcome to Gringotts, Harry," Icarus said with a wide grin.

The spell was broken and Harry remembered where he was. He recalled that he was just as showcased as the man he teased and a sort of panic gripped him. He tried to laugh, but the sound was feeble and frightened. He stepped out of the circle, leaving the man blindfolded and waiting for the next person. Niamh smiled ruefully at him. "Icarus is really good," she said consolingly.

"I'm not feeling well," Harry said, eyes focussed on the door that would lead to his escape.

"That'll be the whisky catching up with you." She put a hand on his back. "Come on, let's get you fed." She pushed him past the scene of Meredith teasing Icarus and toward the kitchens. Some part of Harry was aware that he was going in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go, but he was eager to escape the laughing crowd. Niamh sat him down at the table and went about raiding the larder for food.

Harry put his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't recall the last time he was aroused, and the feeling invoked a resentful sort of shame. He cursed his traitorous body. He could still recall, before the final battle, a time when he was normal. A time when his desires made sense to him. It seemed a lifetime ago now that he was sneaking off with Ginny to snog for hours in any available, secluded spot on the Hogwarts grounds. He remembered how, at the time, the magic of her kiss, the feeling of her hands on is body could make the world's problems disappear. Reality had boiled down to soft lips, silky skin and raw nerves tingling urgently for more. There was a time when the low ache of arousal was something after which he sought. Something he enjoyed.

To think that his normality was destroyed along with the parasitic bit of evil soul was the cruellest irony of the war. It made him feel ill to think his excitement of touching his girlfriend had never been his own. He never thought he'd have cause to regret not being a Horcrux.

There was a moment, after the battle, when he sat holding Ginny in his arms that he'd dared to hope. They were wrestling with grief over Fred's death, Tonks and Remus, but Harry knew they'd get out the other side. He dared to think that their grief was merely a painful entry into a new, simpler life. All would be well.

He ought to have known better.

Niamh placed a plate loaded with pita bread and various savory pastries with a yoghurt sauce in front of him. She took a seat next to him, her hand going to stroke his back. "You all right?"

Harry nodded miserably. "Thanks."

"It's not the whisky, is it?"

"Hm?"

"What news from home?"

It took Harry a moment to remember the original cause of his discontent. "Oh," he said and shook his head. "Nothing really. He's run out of tea and hopes I don't get killed."

Niamh gave him an amused look. "That's it?"

Harry shrugged. "Basically. He has a new assistant and doesn't hate her yet."

She seemed disappointed. Harry couldn't think why she should be. He laughed. "What were you expecting?" 

She gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged. "So, I can read it?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm obsessed?" she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "And I'd like to stare at his handwriting."

An incredulous laugh burst forth from Harry, fuelled by booze. Of course, he could sort of relate to her silliness. He recalled holding Severus' washing to his nose on more than one occasion just so he could breathe in the curious combination of acrid potions ingredients and lavender that followed Severus around. Harry pulled his wand and summoned the letter. "Here. Knock yourself out."

"I love you," she professed and gave him a tight hug. Harry laughed and started in on his plate of food as she quietly studied Severus' mercilessly distant words. Harry felt moderately better now being away from the party and the unnecessarily sexually-charged atmosphere. A vision of Raven's tongue sliding over Icarus' mouth as he rubbed the shorter man through his trousers came unbidden to his mind, sending his stomach turning over again. Harry let out a slow breath and wished it away.

"What does he mean by 'your impulse to erase us from written history'?" Niamh asked.

Harry blinked. He'd forgotten about that part. He shook his head to try and dismiss the question. "Inside joke," he said with a smile. "I hate seeing my name in the papers."

Niamh grunted and stared at the letter again, reading it a second time. "He sounds like your dad," she said with an amused smile.

Harry grunted as a streak of irritation shot through him. The idea of Severus as a paternal figure was laughable, but Harry supposed the lectures would come across as such. 

"I wonder how he found out about Ellis," she said absently.

"Dunno," Harry said. "He knows things. It sort of defines him. I imagine he went to berate Bill for proposing this to me. He wasn't happy when I told him where I was coming."

"It's a wonder he let you go at all," she said, smiling at the letter. 

"He might sound like my father, but he isn't," Harry said firmly. "And I sort of didn't tell him until the night before I left," he added sheepishly.

"You didn't tell the man you were living with that you were leaving until the day before?" she said incredulously.

"We weren't living together anymore," Harry explained. "I'd moved out a couple of weeks before. I met up with Bill just after I left and ... well, here I am."

"Because of the article?" Niamh asked. Harry looked at her, stunned for a moment. He thought he'd probably drunk too much to keep up with the girl.

"Sort of," Harry admitted.

"I'll bet he was fucked off to think everyone thought you two were a couple," she said with a grin.

Harry shook his head. "Actually, he laughed. I freaked out when I read it, and it didn't bother him at all. He said if I'd taken his advice and started dating, the article wouldn't have happened. It was the only thing we ever really rowed about."

"You dating?"

Harry nodded. 

"I suppose it would be difficult for you," she said. "I mean, who would want to date the sort of people who would troll after The Chosen One." Harry laughed. His esteem for the girl shot up exponentially, even if that wasn't precisely his reasoning. "So, the article came out. Snape told you that you should date to prove that you weren't gay, and you got angry and left? You ran into Bill, who set you up with Husef, and now you're here."

"In a nut shell," Harry said with a grin.

"Sounds like fate to me," she noted.

Harry looked at her curiously. "You believe in Fate?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

Harry grinned. "Maybe," he said, his spirits lifting. 

"Maybe? Harry, your whole life has been dictated by prophecy," she said incredulously.

Harry laughed to hear his arguments echoed back at him. "I tried making this argument to Severus the night he insisted I move in with him. It's what convinced him I was crazy."

"Well, it probably wasn't an accident that he was there, was it? I mean, his intervention sorted you out. And now you're here. Do you think you'd have come here if you'd never moved in with him?"

Harry suddenly felt hollowed out by the notion she was right. He'd been convinced that he and Severus had had some purpose – something more they were destined to do. It never occurred to him that perhaps in healing him, Severus had already fulfilled his purpose. That their work together was done.

He was struck by a feeling of loss. He slumped back in the chair and put his hand to his forehead. "Harry?" Niamh said, her voice full of concern.

"I think you're right," he said dully.

"Here. Drink this," she said after a moment, urging a glass of water into his hands. Harry did as he was told, attempting to fill the new hole in his chest with liquid. "What's the matter?" she asked.

Harry blinked at her and then frowned at the half-eaten plate of food. "I just never thought of it that way," he said, trying for a small smile. "I'm fine."

"You ready to go back to the party?" she asked.

Harry's nose wrinkled.

She laughed. "It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "Is it obvious?"

"A bit," she grinned. "You'll get used to it. Once you get to know everyone, you'll come to think of them as family and it won't be so hard."

"Family?" Harry said incredulously. "Does your family routinely grope you? Because I'm not sure that's normal." 

"Ok, a particularly incestuous family," she laughed. "We've only got each other here. This is Egypt. It's a difficult place if you're a woman or a gay man. Or even just foreign. We don't exactly have a lot of time to go out and search for meaningful relationships, so we find ways of venting sexual frustrations among ourselves."

Harry gave her an uncertain look. "Sounds dangerous. Doesn't it cause problems?"

Niamh nodded. "Sometimes. Only if you take it too seriously. If you're looking for love, this isn't the place to find it. If you're out for a bit of craic, there are plenty of options." 

"So, that's it? Everyone sleeps with everyone else?"

Niamh rolled her eyes. "Gods, you're so squeaky clean, you make my teeth hurt," she declared. "You're as bad as Malika. Are you saving yourself for marriage, too?" 

The change in her tone was surprising. Harry bristled a bit. "You say that like it would be a bad thing," Harry snapped. "I'm not saving myself for anything. Or at all. I just ... don’t see the point."

"The point of what? Sex?" Niamh laughed mockingly. "I should think it was obvious."

Harry glared.

Niamh's expression softened. "Look, Harry. No one is going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. Well, after tonight, anyway. But if you totally close yourself off, you're going to get lonely. Malika, at least, has Zhan."

"Who do you have?" Harry asked.

Niamh gave an impish grin. "You mean tonight?"

Harry laughed and shook his head.

"Let's go back."

The game had ended by the time they returned and the crowd had thinned a bit and separated off into smaller groups of people. Niamh led him back toward the sofa where Icarus and Raven sat talking to Meredith, Astrid, Sven and Michel. Niamh sat down boldly on Raven's lap. Harry took a spot on the floor.

"What were you two up to?" Meredith said with a teasing grin.

"Eating," Harry said.

"A man after my own heart," Meredith noted. 

Niamh snorted. "Harry is a perfect gentleman." Judging by her tone, it wasn't quite the compliment it should have been. Squeaky-clean, she'd said. Harry didn't suppose he could deny it.

"Hm," Astrid said. "We'll have to find a way to change that." She pushed Harry playfully on the shoulder.

"So what did you think, Harry? Not so bad, was it?" Icarus said with a hopeful grin.

Harry returned his smile. "It was fun to watch it happen to other people," he said.

"You were very good," Sven said. "Normally it takes ages to guess correctly. I'm still shit and I've been here years."

"I was just lucky," Harry protested. His eyes flickered up to see Icarus looking at him. He blushed inexplicably.

"Well, we have an empty bottle," Meredith said, reaching to grab the empty whisky bottle from before. "I say we make good use of it."

"I need more beer for this," Sven decided and waved his wand to summon several bottles. He offered one to Harry, who wasn't quite certain what they were fuelling up for. Niamh slid off the sofa to take a place in the circle that was forming.

"Have you ever played Spin-the-Bottle, Harry?" Michel asked, eyeing him warily.

"Spin the bottle?"

Meredith looked at him incredulously. "Seriously? What have you been doing with your adolescence?"

Before Harry could respond, Niamh chimed in. "Fighting Voldemort?" she said looking at the other girl as though she were an idiot. "Saving the world? I don't suppose he had much time to devote to kissing games."

Harry's eyes widened. "Kissing games?"

"Sorry," Meredith said to him. "I guess it was a stupid question." Her eyes widened suddenly. "You're not – "

"Meredith," both Icarus and Niamh said severely.

She shut her mouth tightly and then cleared her throat. "Well," she said, repressing a smile. "I suppose there's a first time for everything." She set the bottle in the middle of the floor and tapped it with her wand. The bottle hovered. "It's simple really. You set the bottle to spinning and whoever it points to, you kiss for at least ten seconds. At most thirty, Icarus," she said with mock severity. The man grinned at the implicit reproach.

Harry looked at the girl blankly. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want to do this. This was not what he'd signed up for. Squeaky-clean, Niamh's voice mocked him. 

"It helps to drink," Sven said sympathetically. 

Meredith called out a general invitation to the room, but no one else was interested. She shrugged and then set the bottle to spinning. She didn't seem bothered when it landed on Niamh. Niamh came to her knees and met Meredith's mouth over the hovering bottle. 

Harry had never felt more awkward in his life. He had no idea where to look and so he settled on drinking as an alternative. He looked up as a hand mussed his hair. Raven offered him a reassuring smile that only served to make Harry feel more wretched. He was being ridiculous. It was just kissing. He'd kissed Ginny loads of times. And Cho. Once. No big deal.

The kiss broke, and Niamh was the next to spin. The bottle stopped on Michel who looked at the girl balefully. "No teeth," he said sharply. Niamh gave him a devilish grin before pulling him into a deep snog. "Aïe! Merde, Niamh," Michel shouted, breaking out and sucking on his bottom lip. 

"You asked for it," Niamh said, laughing. Michel threw her an irritated glare before spinning.

"I don't get it," Harry said to Astrid as he avoided watching Michel and Sven kiss. "How do you win?"

Astrid laughed. "Everyone wins," she said. 

"It's just an excuse to make out," Raven told him.

"Do you need an excuse?" Harry asked with an amused smile.

Raven shrugged and winked at him before sliding down to the floor to kiss Sven. Harry couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss someone with a lip ring. He didn't have long to wonder.

"You lucky bastard," Harry heard Meredith spit as he watched the narrow opening of the bottle stop on him. Harry thought he might be sick from all the butterflies in his stomach. 

Raven tugged Harry up to his knees. He grinned at him, his lip ring winking in the light. "Just close your eyes and think of England," he teased. His hands were soft as they pressed on either side of Harry's burning face. Harry stopped breathing as Raven's face drew close. He took the man's advice and closed his eyes, but his brain had no room for thoughts of England, drawn as it was to the feel of lips against his own. Raven tipped his head and urged Harry's mouth open. His tongue flickered in, tapping against Harry's tongue to urge it to follow. Harry's tongue came out to timidly slide over the thin wire in the man's lip. His hands were clasped firmly over Raven's knees as the man tipped forward to deepen this kiss. 

Harry's heart thudded in his ears, drowning out the low buzz of conversation as his mouth responded to the one pressed against him. Just kissing. He followed the other mouth's lead, trying to ignore that the mouth belonged to a man. He didn't want to think about the feeling of a rough chin sliding over his own or about the firm fingertips pressing against his face.

When the kiss broke at last, Harry felt dizzy and somewhat bereft by the absence. He sat down firmly against the soles of his feet and reached for his beer to avoid looking at anyone.

"Spin, Harry," Astrid said, nudging him toward the bottle.

Harry looked at the thing balefully before reaching to spin it. He couldn't bear to look where the thing would land. To his intense relief, it landed on Meredith. As the girl flashed a wicked grin, Harry's relief abated a bit. His nerves, at least, were steadier as he leant over the bottle to kiss the girl. The softness of her skin and the relatively smallness of her was comforting in its familiarity. The absence of panic allowed Harry to relax into things. He curled his hand lightly at the back of her head. His tongue chased her own back into her mouth. This kiss was playful and pleasant for its lack of shame. When they broke apart, he snorted at her declaration that he wasn't quite as inexperienced as she thought.

Meredith kissed Astrid, who in turn kissed Sven. Sven stood to meet Icarus in the middle, while Harry summoned another beer. Astrid and Meredith teased Sven about clearly having drunk enough to summon his gay side after his kiss with Icarus had gone on rather longer than the requisite ten seconds. Harry laughed at the good-natured teasing and then looked around to see the stupid bottle pointing at him again. Just beyond it, he saw Niamh cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

His eyes darted to Icarus who was looking at him with an apologetic smile. "You don't have to play," Icarus told him, ignoring the protests for the rest of the circle.

The offer to bail made Harry feel like a prat. He shook his head. "'S all right," he said, rising. It was just kissing after all. Would that his insides recognise that and stop lurching about. He tried to remind himself that even Bill did this. Somehow this knowledge did nothing to help stem his arousal.

Icarus unfolded from the sofa and stepped over the bottle to stand in front of him. The man held his gaze as he leant forward. "You're sure?" he whispered, his nosed sliding against Harry's.

Harry swallowed thickly, his eyes closing as his heart began fluttering stupidly. "Yeah," he breathed back. 

There was nothing hesitant about the kiss that followed. A small squeak of surprise sounded in Harry's throat as his mouth was claimed. There was no other word for it. Icarus' mouth plundered Harry's until Harry could do nothing more than surrender. His hands went to Icarus' shoulders as his lips submitted to an invading tongue, which robbed him of his wits. A hand curled into the back of Harry's head and another one stole down to bring him close against the hard, male body. Icarus moaned softly, flexing his hips forward to press against Harry's, sending an intense streak of pleasure that Harry could feel in his toes.

Time stopped and the world melted away. Harry could no longer say why he'd ever been reluctant to do this. The sandpaper chin that scraped against his own was a perfect complement to the soft fullness of those lips, the body pressed against his own fit against him perfectly. Harry mindlessly responded to the teeth scraping over his bottom lip. He suckled gently at the tongue tipping into his mouth. He was lost.

Abruptly, the dream ended. Harry opened his eyes to see Icarus being hauled away by Niamh. Harry dropped back to his knees and struggled to remember how to breathe. The others laughed. "It happens to everyone," Astrid told him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "The man has a magic mouth."

Harry covered his red face with his hands and cursed. "I think I've drunk too much," he said dully, earning another round of laughter. Belatedly, it occurred to him that it was his turn to spin again and he looked at the bottle warily. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Astrid said with a grin.

Harry reached out to set the bottle to spinning. He watched it, praying that it wouldn't go anywhere near Icarus. He was pretty sure he'd not survive a second encounter. He watched, incredulous, as his prayers were completely disregarded. Icarus' eyes danced with humour. "It's a conspiracy," Harry said dully.

Niamh giggled wickedly. "Fate," she corrected.

"Here, dude. Take my seat," Raven offered, sliding from the sofa to offer a space next to Icarus. 

Harry was uncertain that was a good idea, but forfeited his seat to Raven and slid onto the soft leather cushions. Icarus grinned at him. "It's not so bad, is it?"

It wasn't at all bad, that was the problem. Harry shook his head and braced himself as Icarus came close again. This time, the touch of those lips was maddeningly tentative. Icarus' tongue peeked out to sweep over Harry's bottom lip before his lips closed over it softly. Teeth were added with nothing of the aggressiveness of last time that had allowed Harry to get swept away with sensation. It was too teasing. Too slow. Harry was too aware of all eyes on the two of them, watching him for his reaction. Judging him. Icarus' fingers played in the hair at the nape of Harry's neck. "You are delicious," the man whispered, tongue darting out to taste his lip again before the man moved away, leaving Harry breathless.

Icarus reached forward to spin the bottle again and sat back to wait. "If it lands on you again," he whispered so only Harry heard, "we're taking this somewhere else." Harry couldn't tell by the grin on his face if the man was joking or not. When the bottle stopped on Niamh, Harry's stomach sank with what felt suspiciously like disappointment.

He watched Niamh and Icarus kiss and then looked on, amused, as Niamh and Raven got rather carried away. The game dissembled as the two decided that the time for games was at an end. Meredith dragged off Sven, Michel and Astrid went over to join other lingering groups leaving Harry with Icarus on the sofa. Harry drank what was left of his beer and ignored the nervousness in his gut. 

"Isn't Malika going to mind?"

"Malika stays with Zhan over the weekends," Icarus told him. "They're engaged to be married."

"Ah," Harry said. "I have to say I can't imagine Zhan playing spin the bottle."

Icarus laughed. "You would be surprised. A couple of shots of vodka, and Zhan is a lot of fun," he said. "Or he was before getting engaged." He leant in pressing his shoulder against Harry. "You are surprising as well," he said softly.

"I've never done anything like this before," Harry said, picking a thread from his jeans.

"Did you like it?"

"It was weird."

"You've never kissed a boy."

Harry shook his head, his face flushing with the knowledge that he'd never be able to say that again. Part of him still recoiled at the idea. He felt like in taking that step, his fate was irreparably sealed. Another part of him argued that everyone else was doing it, so really, why the fuss?

"What did you think?"

Harry turned his head to give the man a half-grin. Icarus watched him with lidded eyes. "It was ... interesting?" Harry said with a weak laugh. 

"Exciting," Icarus said quietly.

Harry chewed his bottom lip and returned his gaze to his hands. He could hardly deny he was excited as he suspected Icarus had felt it when he pressed against him. "I should go to bed," he said quickly and then stood, driven by panic. 

Icarus blinked at him and then nodded. "Me, too."

Harry successfully swallowed back a low moan of dissent and bid good night to the others before returning to his room. He stopped at his door and cursed himself before turning. "Well, good night."

"Ten seconds," Icarus said with a smile. He pushed Harry through his door and then closed it behind him.

"Icarus."

"I know," Icarus said softly, reaching out to pull Harry toward him. 

"I can't ..."

"Shh," Icarus hushed softly, leaning in. "Don't panic. I'm only kissing you good night."

And he did. He drew Harry to him until their bodies were flush together, Harry's panicked heart tapping frantically against Icarus' chest. The kiss was assertive, taking the lead again until Harry's mouth could only follow. Harry released his fear on a long breath and leant into the kiss, telling himself this was the last time. Just one last taste.

Icarus' hand was firm as it slid down Harry's side. Harry's body jerked reflexively at the feel of fingers suddenly under his shirt, thumb rubbing lightly over Harry's hip bone. Icarus broke the kiss and leant his head forward to rest on Harry's shoulder, breathing heavily. He turned his head to kiss Harry's neck on that maddening spot that somehow was directly connected to Harry's bollocks. He stepped back. "Sleep well," he said with an ironic smile.

Harry managed a breathy laugh, and rubbed his face with his hands. "You, too," he said backing away to put a merciful distance between them. He watched the door close behind the man before going to press his head against it, fighting to still the torrent of need inside him.

When Harry settled in bed, for the first time in a long time, he didn't think of Severus.


	5. Chapter Five

Harry spent all day Saturday studying. He'd been worried about facing the others after all that happened Friday night, but his concerns were quickly put to rest when they greeted him as they had done every morning since he'd come to Cairo. No one talked about the initiation or the game that followed, and any lingering awkwardness Harry felt at seeing Icarus again was quickly put to rest by a reassuring grin.

Sunday morning, he rose late and slipped out of bed. After having a quick wash, Harry went to the kitchen for breakfast. He heard shouting as he drew near to the kitchen door. It was Niamh's voice and she was doing quite a lot of cursing. Harry entered cautiously.

"Don't fucking give me that. One of you fucking did this. Who was it?" Niamh seethed.

"You know it wasn't me, Niamh," Meredith shouted back. "I was with you." 

"Yeah. It was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Niamh, calm down. This isn't helping," Icarus said, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

"Morning," Harry said cautiously. All eyes turned toward him; some looking distinctly fearful and others sympathetic. Harry frowned. "What's going on?"

No answer was forthcoming, and Harry judged by the silence and the guilty looks that the something had to do with him. Suddenly, the door swung behind him. Harry turned to see Raven, whose face seemed even paler without his habitual eyeliner. "Which one of you did this?" he seethed, holding out what looked to be the Prophet.

Harry's stomach dropped at the sight of himself being snogged senseless by Icarus on the cover. The headline proclaimed, "Potter finds love in Cairo." All the air left him swiftly, and try as he might, he couldn't pull it back in. He felt he'd been kicked in the stomach. He grabbed the table to keep from falling.

"No," he breathed. 

"Harry," Raven said, stepping forward.

"Why?" he choked. His mind stretched to Severus, who would have received this with his morning tea. To Ron, who would certainly choke on his own. Everyone. Everyone would see it.

"Give it to me," Harry gasped, tearing the paper out of Raven's hands before storming out, fleeing to his room. Once there, he forced himself to calm and went to the desk drawer to take out his box, the scissors. He'd get rid of it and then he'd go. He'd leave. He'd explain.

Tears streaked down his face. His hands trembled as he cut his name from the article. He didn't bother reading it. He didn't have to. A picture was worth a thousand words, and all of them came down to the same message. Harry Potter was gay. Here was the proof. His eyes scanned the text and caught on "his brief affair with Severus Snape." He snipped that away too before gathering the clippings and storing them in his box. When he was finished he ripped the paper to shreds, his chest aching with betrayal and fear.

When his door opened, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in the scraps of paper. "Go away," he growled.

"Harry, I know this is bad," Raven said. "If I find out who did this, I'll kick their fucking ass, but you can't let this get to you."

"Please get out," Harry breathed.

"I told you, Harry," Icarus said. "This is what they do. They try and get to you until you leave. It's the game-"

"It's my fucking life," Harry yelled, looking up to see Niamh, Icarus and Raven staring at him warily. "This isn't a game to me. This ... I can't ...." Harry growled in frustration and put his head between his knees as his chest began to heave with panic. His hands tore uselessly at the paper balled in his fists. "Just ... go ... away."

They weren't listening. Icarus cast a muffling charm and Niamh went to her knees in front of him. She conjured a paper bag and handed it over. "Breathe into this," she said. When Harry refused to stop tearing at the paper, she held it to his mouth.

Icarus sat beside him and wrapped his arms around him. Harry cringed away from the man's touch. "Please."

None of them listened. They sat quietly, waiting for the panic to pass. Icarus rubbed his back in slow soothing strokes. Niamh held the paper bag over his nose and mouth and urged him to take deep breaths. Raven sat quietly beside him. At length, his breathing slowed to normal. His insides had been hollowed out, leaving behind an aching absence. A cold numbness. Harry wiped his face on his arm and pressed his forehead to his knees. "Is there a long-distance floo I can use to make a call?" he asked, tightly.

"You can use the one in Husef's office," Raven said. 

Harry sniffed and dropped the remains of the newspaper on his floor before standing. "I'd like to go now, please," he said in a low, rough voice.

Icarus went to touch him. Harry dodged his outstretched hand. The man looked disconsolate. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Can you take me?" Harry asked Raven. Raven gave him a worried look, but nodded.

Harry stayed stubbornly silent as they walked through the empty corridors. The place seemed cold and foreign to him today, despite the number of times he'd been through it over the past week. This place was not a home. His heart yearned for the relative calm of Spinner's End. In the months he lived there with Severus, he'd managed to make a welcoming home of the small, modest house. He'd cleaned and repaired that which Severus had neither the time nor the inclination to repair. He liked to think that, together, they'd made it a nice place to live.

How could he ever have been stupid enough to leave it? He'd been safe there. Yes, it wasn't the glamorous life that one expected him to lead, but it had been comfortable. Harry cared nothing for glamour. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to be safe.

"Harry, please." Raven put his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry stopped, keeping his eyes resolutely downward. "You have a gift, dude. You were made to do this. Don't let them stop you. It's just a stupid article."

Harry clenched his jaw and fought for calm. When he didn't respond, Raven sighed and waved his wand to unlock Husef's door. He waved Harry in. "I'd like to be alone please," he said, breaking his silence.

Raven nodded. "Just don't ... touch anything, okay? I'll wait outside for you."

Harry knelt down before the cold fireplace and waited for the door to close before taking up a handful of Floopowder and throwing it in. Green flames erupted. "Severus Snape, Cokesworth, England," he announced clearly and then shoved his head in to peer out into Severus' sitting room. His heart sped up a bit at the sight of the place. Home. 

"Severus?" he called out, hoping the man was somewhere on the ground floor and could hear him. When no response came, he shouted, "Severus!" His heart sickened at the thought he might not reach the man. He had to tell him the truth. He couldn't let him think .... "Severus!!!"

"I'm here," a low voice answered. Seconds later, Harry was looking up at the standing man, staring down at him with a guarded expression. His eyes glittered angrily. "I see you're all settled in Cairo."

Harry shook his head. "It's not what it looked like."

"Given that you were standing in the photo, I'm going to assume the young man was not performing mouth to mouth. Perhaps he is a practitioner of the ancient art of Egyptian tonsil cleaning," the man said with an unpleasant smile. His arms crossed over his chest.

"There was a party, Severus. It was a stupid game. I didn't even want to play-"

"You hardly appeared reluctant."

"Everyone was kissing everyone. It was a game. Spin the bottle. I swear –"

"Why do you presume I care?" the man said coldly. "We are not a couple, Potter."

The use of his surname stabbed through his heart like a knife. "I didn't want you to think-"

"That you might be enjoying what is left of your adolescence? If I recall correctly, you went to Cairo to grow up. It is high time you do so."

Harry looked up into the cold, unfathomable expression and felt his insides twist with desperation. He thought he'd prefer to see anger there, something to show that the man cared. Harry swallowed. "I'm coming home," he said quietly.

The man said nothing a long moment. "May I ask why?"

"I should never have come here. It was a mistake," Harry admitted, lowering his eyes.

"And here I thought fate didn't make mistakes," Severus said mockingly. Harry frowned. "So, you've decided to run away again."

Harry narrowed his eyes as indignation coursed through him. "It's a game to them, Severus. Push the poor little acolyte until he breaks. They're playing with my life."

"My, you have changed," Severus said in a disappointed tone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry shouted.

"When Fudge launched his media campaign against you, convincing everyone you were a disturbed, glory-seeking young man, did you run away and hide? No. You fought back until the world had no choice but to believe you."

"That was different," Harry said angrily. "It was important. It meant something."

"And your life means nothing?"

Harry clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "I thought you'd be happy. You don't even want me here." He'd hoped Severus would be pleased to have him back. 

"What will you do if you come back? Lock yourself up in Grimmauld Place with Kreacher and the charming Mrs Black? Become a hermit until the world loses interest in their boy hero?"

Harry shook his head. It was a better fate than this. He'd been fighting all his life. He was sick to death of being where he wasn't wanted. He just couldn't do it anymore. "You don't understand," he said sullenly. 

The man looked at him a long moment before lowering himself to his knees. He reached out and Harry could feel the distant brush of a cool hand over his face. His eyes prickled with tears. 

"I don't like the idea of you needlessly risking your life," Severus said. "But I prefer it to the idea of you squandering it. The only reason the article has any effect at all is because you let it. Acknowledge it. Accept it, and they will have no more ammunition."

Harry shook his head. "It was just a game," he repeated miserably.

"So, play the game," Severus said quietly. 

"Doesn't it bother you?"

The man snorted and withdrew his hand. "I expect you to live, Harry. You're very good at survival. Almost as good as I am," Severus said with an ironic smirk. "But we've got our second chance at life and we owe it to ourselves to live. If that means I have to restrain myself from flying across the globe in a fit of jealousy to throttle some beautiful boy who gets close to you from time to time ... You'll need to trust me when I tell you that more than anything, I want you to be happy. And I don't think you'll achieve that here. Not yet."

"I miss you, Severus."

The man looked at him a long moment before nodding. "Send my regards to Master Winter," he said.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You know her?"

"She's an old friend."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

The man looked puzzled a moment. 

"Like a proper friend ... or the Death Eater kind?"

Severus laughed. "There's the Harry Potter I know," he said. 

"She hates me," Harry told him.

The man gave him a look. "I hardly think she knows you well enough to hate you. Someday you'll learn that not everyone who isn't immediately impressed with you is your enemy."

Harry frowned. "She's probably the one behind the photo," he insisted.

Severus nodded. "It's possible," he conceded. "But it only matters if you let it. Now, go on. Take a deep breath, summon that legendary courage and show them that you won't be beaten by something as trifling as a headline. You've faced worse in your time."

Harry looked at the man, knowing he was right. Nevertheless, his heart ached to dive into the flames and close himself away with the man. He thought he could happily play houseboy for the rest of his life, if only he could have the comfort of conversation and proximity. He thought of waking up in Severus' arms. He recalled how peaceful he felt in that split second before realisation hit him. "It should have been you," he said. "I should have kissed you when I had the chance." He offered a small regretful smile.

Severus looked at him a moment before snorting softly. "I look forward to seeing what you've learnt," he said with a smirk. "Until then."

Harry grinned and laughed weakly. "Bye, Severus."

"Take care, Harry."

Harry pulled back and stared at the empty fireplace for a long moment. He felt as though he'd been twisted into knots, tight and stretched too thin. The thought of going back to the dorms, of confronting a crowd of people amongst who one or more were actively working to get rid of him left him feeling tired and weary. But Severus was right. He'd faced worse than this. 

He'd faced Severus, himself. 

The thought brought a smile to his face. He rose to his feet and walked back to the door. He blinked at the sight of the entire team waiting for him. Malika broke away from Zhan's embrace to come up and pull him into her arms. "I am sorry they have done this to you," she said quietly. 

Harry awkwardly patted her on the back. His eyes went to Zhan, who studied him intently. "We will all write to your shit English paper and tell them the truth, yes?"

Harry shook his head. "It'll only drag it out. I would prefer they think that I've found love in Cairo than to have them sniffing about to report on what actually goes on here." He gave a weak, miserable smile. "But thanks."

"It is nothing, Harry. A little kiss. It is not worth throwing everything away," Michel told him.

Harry nodded numbly. He couldn't expect them to understand. It was more than the kiss. It was the implications of the kiss. It was the fact that he was photographed in a compromising position in a place he'd considered safe. It was seeing his name once again in print. It was more than a kiss.

"I appreciate you all turning up, but I need to be alone at the moment," he said quietly.

It was a small plea, initially indulged, and then ignored as the day went on. No sooner had Harry closed the door to his room, than Malika came in with a plate of breakfast for him. She told him that contrary to appearances, it was quite simple to fade into the background. "We are here to learn and to work. You are not obliged to participate in the rest, Harry. The only people that matter are those on your team. They are the only friends you need."

Icarus found him at lunch, lying on his bed, staring at his Ancient Runes text book and wishing he had a photographic memory. Harry looked up at the man, who smiled warily. He didn't wait for an invitation before entering the room and putting a bowl of soup on his desk. He climbed a few rungs of the ladder and smiled. "You are studying."

Harry nodded.

"This is a good sign, right?"

Harry snorted. "Maybe."

Icarus beamed as if Harry had just answered unequivocally. He crawled up onto the bed and lay on his side with his head propped on his hand.

"Are you angry with me?"

Harry blinked. "No," he said. "It's not your fault. If anything, I should apologise to you for bringing you into this mess."

Icarus frowned and nodded. "Hm. If I had known I would have my pictures in the paper, I would have worn something sexier," he decided. Harry gave him an exasperated look. Icarus grinned. "I have always wanted to be famous," he said wistfully. "Maybe not for kissing Harry Potter. But it was a very nice kiss, yes?"

Harry groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I wish I could be as cool about it as you are," he said.

Icarus shrugged. "Well, everyone knows I'm gay. It's not so difficult for me. I think my mother will be cutting out that photo and putting it in the family scrap book."

Harry laughed incredulously.

"She will be disappointed to know the truth. She is always telling me that I should settle down. Maybe I will not tell her straight away." He nudged Harry's foot playfully.

Harry shook his head. "I'll need to write a few letters, too," he said wearily.

"What will you say?"

Harry shrugged. "The truth. That the Prophet got it wrong again. That it was a game."

Icarus grunted. "What about the other truth?" he asked.

Harry stared at him. His mouth went suddenly dry. "What other truth?" he said, averting his eyes.

Icarus sighed after a moment. "You know, my mother is the most important person in my life. I would do anything to make her happy. What would make her happiest is grandchildren. So, I dated women to please her. I slept with men to please myself. And then, one day, she came home early from a trip abroad and found me in bed with my best friend."

"What happened?"

"She cried for a week. I tried to tell her that I was just fooling around, and she was very angry with me. 'Your lies make fools of both of us,' she said. She told me that she always knew I was gay, but allowed herself to hope when I started dating girls. I destroyed her hope and broke her heart. I have never lied to my mother again."

Harry pulled a sympathetic grimace. "But she's okay with it now?"

Icarus nodded. "She is looking forward to me settling down and adopting hundreds of little grandchildren for her." He shrugged. "She will have to wait a little longer, I think." He reached out and pushed Harry's hair from his eyes. "Who will you write to?"

"My friends," Harry said.

"You spoke to Severus Snape this morning?" Icarus asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Should I be worried? I am a very good wizard, but I would not like to make an enemy of him," he said, grinning.

Harry gave him a look. "It's not like that," he insisted.

Icarus sighed. "This morning when I woke up to see my face in the newspaper, my first thought was to find out who was responsible. Your first thought was to call Severus Snape. I can only assume you wanted to explain, which leads me to think he would expect some sort of explanation," Icarus reasoned.

Harry couldn't think of a way to argue against his logic. So he stuck to denying it. "It's really not like that," he said again. "It's ... complicated."

Icarus lowered himself to the pillow, resting his head on his bent arm. "I have time."

"It's not what you're thinking," Harry said. "I've never ... We never ...." Harry sighed, defeated.

"He is not your lover," Icarus completed. "But there is something, yes?"

Harry closed his eyes and grunted. "Something," he agreed. "I'm not sure what. Nothing's ever happened between us. Until that stupid article came out, I didn't even know he was gay. I was happier not knowing."

Icarus looked appropriately confused. Harry didn't know how to explain it. "But why? Were you worried he would try something?"

Harry shook his head. "I ... fell in love with him." He forced the words past his throat. "I didn't mean anything because I had every reason to believe he was straight. It couldn't go anywhere. It was safe."

"Safe," Icarus repeated. "You are afraid of love? Of sex?"

"I don't want to be like this, Icarus. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. I know it's stupid, but I ... if I can avoid the physical part ..."

"You will be a celibate, gay man. What's wrong with being gay?" Icarus asked with a frown.

"Nothing. It's just ... I wasn't always." Harry sighed and tried to come up with a way of explaining things simply. But there was no simple explanation. He had theories, but no way of proving them. 

"I had a girlfriend when I was in school. Ginny. I loved her more than anything. I split up with her because I knew I would have to go away. I had to concentrate everything on Voldemort, and I didn't want to put her in danger by association. But I knew that when it was all over, if I survived it, I would come back, and I would marry her. That's what helped get me through that year. My happy ending.

"I did it. I lived against all odds. She and I had a chance at last. But as the summer wore on, I began to realise that I'd changed. I still loved her. I still wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but I couldn't get my body to agree." 

Icarus gave him a puzzled look. "But you were attracted to her before?"

Harry nodded. "Achingly," he said wryly.

"I have never heard of this happening. You are sure it's not just psychological?" he asked.

Harry snorted. "That's what we told ourselves at first. That it was stress. But I knew better. I started having dreams about men. Her brother, actually. Bill Weasley," he admitted sheepishly. "Whenever I saw him I'd start to feel everything that I couldn't feel with her anymore."

"I have heard that Bill is very sexy," Icarus said sympathetically. "But it still doesn't explain why you would lose interest in girls, Harry. This isn't normal. Maybe you are bi?"

Harry hesitated a moment before deciding that it might be nice to come clean for once. He'd told Ginny his theory as to what happened. He remembered she looked as though she'd sick up. He recalled feeling like he might do as well. "I think I know what happened," he told the man. "Voldemort and I had a sort of connection from the first time he tried to kill me when I was a baby. Because of that connection, for instance, I could speak Parseltongue, and I could sort of project myself to see what he saw and feel what he felt. The second time he tried to kill me, he severed that connection, and I think, any physical attraction I had to girls. I don't think that attraction was ever my own."

Icarus looked horrified. Harry wondered vaguely if it was because of the connection, or if it was the thought of Voldemort being attracted to anyone. At length, the man blinked and shook his head. "Your life has been ... incredible. Incredibly sad," he said softly, moving his hand to stroke Harry's arm. 

Harry grunted and tried to fend off a wave of useless self-pity.

"But this is good," Icarus said. "It means you are finally yourself. And you are a gay man, Harry. You had a dream to marry this girl. It didn't work, and that is sad. But you can't let the death of one dream keep you from having others, yes?" 

He owed it to himself to live, Severus had said. Icarus' words echoed the sentiment. They were right, Harry knew, but he didn't know how to move on. He thought it might be enough to throw himself into the various missions that came his way. He thought of Dumbledore, who had given up on romantic love around the same age as Harry, and who never looked back. No one could say that Dumbledore's life was meaningless.

"There are other types of dreams," Harry said quietly.

Icarus gave him a dismayed look. "What does your Severus have to say about this?" he asked.

"I've never spoken to him about it," Harry admitted. "I told him I was ... that I had feelings for him. But he doesn't know the rest. He thinks I should come out."

Icarus smiled. "Well, you have already been outed. Twice now. Maybe you should use this occasion to tell your friends this other truth. And then, maybe, the truth will not frighten you so much." 

Harry lowered his eyes. "Maybe," he echoed.

"And your friend doesn't want to kill me?"

Harry laughed. "Maybe a little," he said with a teasing smile. "But he's not eager to return to prison, so I'm pretty sure you're safe."

Icarus' smile grew wicked. "So, perhaps I can kiss you again, yes?"

Harry laughed. "I'm never kissing anyone again," he vowed.

"No. Please. It would a terrible waste of a perfect mouth," Icarus said with a beseeching look.

Harry gave a small doubtful grunt, but he couldn't help smiling.

"So, I will leave you to your studies," he said, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

"What exactly are your tips for learning Ancient Runes?" Harry asked.

The man twisted around and raised an eyebrow. He made a considering noise before shaking his head. "Someday, I will show you." 

"Will that be before or after I fail my class?" Harry said dryly.

"All right. I will show you," he said, turning to kneel by Harry's side. "Take off your shirt."

Harry snorted. "Your technique involves me taking my clothes off?" Harry said doubtfully. "Why?"

"Trust me."

Harry gave him a doubtful look. "I don't trust anyone," he said. "What are you going to do to me?"

Icarus moved over and tugged Harry up into a seated position. His fingers went to the hem of Harry's shirt. He smiled as he raised it very slowly, exposing Harry's skin inch by inch. 

"This doesn't feel much like studying," Harry said nervously.

"Who says studying cannot be pleasurable?"

Harry raised his arms compliantly and his t-shirt slipped over his head. Icarus pushed him back. "Close your eyes." Harry forced his eyes shut. They snapped back open as he felt Icarus pull his knees open.

"It's okay. I think I'll get by," Harry said quickly, sitting up again.

Icarus gave him a look. "One rune," he said, urging Harry back to the pillow. "I promise it will be painless."

"There are different kinds of pain," Harry said darkly.

Icarus moved to straddle Harry's thighs, causing Harry to go so tense he nearly came off the bed again. "Icarus."

"Shh. Close your eyes and concentrate."

Harry closed him eyes to block out the sight of an amused smile. His body jerked at the feel of a soft touch to the centre of his chest. "Concentrate," Icarus whispered. "Try and see the pattern." His finger made a slow line down the right side of Harry's chest. A trail of shivers followed the finger's progression. It came up to join the top of the line and started across his chest before veering downward. The finger came back a bit lower down this time and did the same again.

By the time he'd stopped, Harry shivered. "This is your method?"

"Do you recognise the form?"

"It's the F shape. Pointing down," Harry said.

"Ansuz," Icarus said.

"Ansuz," Harry echoed.

The bed dipped on either side of Harry's waist as Icarus braced himself with his hands, sliding his weight backward until his hips fitted themselves between Harry's knees. Harry gasped as the man's chest settled over his hips. He opened his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me," Icarus said. "Close your eyes."

Harry let out a rough breath and tried to relax. His effort was wasted when he felt the tip of Icarus' tongue touch his belly. His hands rushed to the man's shaggy brown hair. "What?"

Icarus crawled forward, dragging a line up the right side of his chest where his finger had been before. The man's methods became crystal clear, and Harry would certainly not have asked for his help had he known. As the second part of the fork was drawn, Icarus breathed, "Name it."

"Ansuz," Harry said quickly. 

"Ansuz," Icarus agreed. "The As. The letter A."

Harry could still feel the pattern drying into his chest. "The As. A," he repeated shakily.

Once again the man slid down, stomach rubbing over the front of Harry's trousers. Harry covered his face and tried to remember how to breathe. Once again the man's tongue mapped out the form. "Name it."

"Ansuz. The As. The letter A."

"Of the Freyr Aett," Icarus added.

"Of the Freyr Aett," Harry agreed.

Icarus slid down again, causing Harry's stomach to clench, lifting his shoulders off the bed. "Fuck," he breathed.

Icarus' chuckle clouded hotly over his belly. He heard the man draw a steeling and then continue as before. This time it seemed to take forever for the man to complete as Harry was drawn into the foreign sensation of being licked. He wasn't sure this was the best thing to help his concentration levels, but when one last time he was asked to recite, he did so automatically.

"Communication. The power of words. Truth."

"Truth," Harry breathed.

Icarus settled down, covering him with his body now and looking him in the eyes. He was hard, and Harry could feel that hardness pressing against his own. He put his elbow just above Harry's shoulder and propped his head up. "When you're ready to learn more, I will be here." 

Harry gave a weak laugh. "I'm not sure I'd live through the whole runic alphabet."

"I can teach you about so much more than runes," the man said with a meaningful smile.

A series of explosions went off in Harry's chest that would put any bonfire night display to shame. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Icarus-"

A pair of lips pressed against his own, silencing him. "When you're ready," the man breathed against his lips before mercifully rolling away. As he swung his legs over the side again, the door opened. Harry twisted quickly to see Niamh. 

She looked at Harry and then at Icarus and shook her head. "And here, I was worried," she said wryly. Harry moved quickly to put his shirt on and Icarus hopped down. "Ancient runes?" she asked. 

"See you at dinner, Harry," Icarus said before going.

"He was meant to feed you," she said reproachfully, nodding toward the bowl of cold soup on Harry's desk.

"We just talked," Harry said.

"With your shirt off."

"His was on," Harry pointed out. She gave him an unconvinced look. He laughed. "All right. He was demonstrating his ... study methods."

"Did he tell you that he can't write runes without getting hard?" she asked. "His study methods have long-lasting consequences."

Harry thought he could understand why. His hand rubbed absently at his chest. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"You feeling better?"

Harry nodded. "Think so. I'm not sure I'm ready to go out there yet."

"You spoke with _Him_ today, didn't you?" There was very little question as to whom the pronoun referred.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"What did he say?"

Harry shrugged. "That I've faced worse, and that I'd be a coward to quit now. Basically. He told me that the only power they have is that which I give them." Harry shrugged. "He's right, I suppose."

Niamh gave him a grim smile, and then leant back to sit on the ladder leading up to his bed. Harry took a seat at his desk and waved his wand to re-heat the soup. "I think I understand his protective instinct with you," she said with a smile. "There something so fucking vulnerable about you. You're like a starving little street urchin."

Harry snorted. "Cheers."

"Seriously. I'm a cold-hearted bitch at the best of times. But this morning when I saw the Prophet, I was ready to claw their eyes out."

"I appreciate you fighting for me."

She shook her head. "It was stupid," she said. "What they did to you wasn't very kind, but it's totally normal that they would try. I know it's hard to understand for you because you just got here, but we all go through this. For me, I hate having my things fucked with. So, they stole my books, they smuggled bright red socks into my washing and turned all my clothes pink. They nicked my coursework and would move my stuff out of place. Eventually, I had to decide whether to go home or to stop letting it get to me."

"You shouldn't have to make that choice," he said irritably. "It's a really shit way to treat someone."

She shrugged. "It's sort of a good-natured hazing. It's not really malicious, Harry. It's a rite of passage. This is a stressful job and the whole initiation phase is like ... natural selection. Survival of the fittest." She gave him a look. "They were really spot on with you, weren't they? I mean, it was pretty clear from the beginning you were uncomfortable about the whole gay thing. But as far as I know, they're not even aware of your freakishness about seeing your name in print."

Harry lowered his eyes, feeling slightly ill to have had witnesses to his 'freakishness'.

"That's what he meant in his letter, isn't it? You really can't stand seeing your name in print."

Harry gave the girl a hard look before shrugging. "It's a thing," he said dismissively.

"It's a pretty shit thing to have if you're famous," she said with an amused grin. "I saw your box. It's not just your name that freaks you out. Is that what happened the night you saw my little ... shrine?"

Harry glanced up. The quick fire connections the girl was able to make were frightening. "For months after the war, there were articles every day, speculating about this or that aspect of the months leading up to it. I would get pretty wound up over the things, so I started clipping my name out. Severus. Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione. It made me feel better." 

"And you just store them in a box?"

Harry scrubbed his face with his hands. "There's this portrait at my house. I inherited the house from my godfather, Sirius Black. I don't know how much you know about that family, but they were really dark, bigoted bastards. Mrs Black's portrait can't be removed. Any time you make a noise, it sets her off, shouting expletives and Mudblood and Blood traitor, filthy. When the house served as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, no one could shut her up. I started using the clippings to sort of ... paper over her every time she kicked off. I've left her a little window to see out of," he said, wrinkling his nose. "That was the reason Severus insisted I come to live with him. In retrospect, I suppose it comes off as a bit mad."

Niamh stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, before sighing. "I just fell in love with you a little," she grinned. "Seriously, you're not at all what I expected."

Harry laughed. "You really are a freak."

"Takes one to know one," she teased. "It's a pity you're gay."

Harry's smile faded. His heart seized up. After a moment, he frowned.

She gave him a look. "I have a confession to make," she said awkwardly. Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. She twisted her mouth. "I may have ... overheard your conversation with Snape."

"Overheard," Harry repeated in a cold voice.

"Eavesdropped," she amended awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

Harry waited for a wave of indignant anger to hit him, but nothing came apart from a vague feeling of exasperation and, strangely, fondness. He laughed. "I can't say I'm surprised. Did the others listen?"

She shook her head. "I'm the only one with extendable ears and the others pretended to object. Of course, I had to give them a running commentary as to whether or not you'd be staying." She offered an apologetic look that dissolved into a wicked grin. "I nearly wet myself when he said he looked forward to seeing what you learned," she said excitedly. She gave a small squeal. "Gods above, that man has the sexiest voice I've ever heard."

Harry laughed and covered his face. He felt strangely happy to share his infatuation with the girl. Up until now, he'd not told anyone but Severus. He didn't dare tell his friends, as neither would really understand. How could they? It was truly inexplicable. Niamh's own obsession made Harry's seem okay. "You should smell him," he sighed. "It's not a pleasant smell exactly. But it's strangely addictive," he grinned.

"Why on earth did you not kiss him?" she asked in disbelief.

Harry's insides clenched with regret. He shrugged. "The timing's wrong," he said. "He still sees me as his former student. As a kid he needs to protect ... or fix. If there's ever going to be more, he needs to see me differently. I need to become the man I want him to see," Harry explained. He laughed at himself after a moment. "And because I'm terrified."

"I'm seriously considering brewing Polyjuice potion and locking you away if he comes to visit," she said darkly.

Harry gave her a bland look. "How are you with Occlumency? Because I can guarantee he'd see right through you," he said teasingly.

She heaved a dramatic sigh. "If you don't shag him ..." she began and then grinned.

Harry's stomach gave a sickening lurch at the idea. That wasn't something he was ready to consider. Kissing, he thought he could manage. Maybe. The rest was unthinkable.

"How are things out there?" Harry asked to redirect the conversation.

Niamh grunted. "Grim. So, Snape suspects it was Winter, then."

Harry shrugged. "He said it was possible."

She gave him a bland look. "He told you to send her his regards," she pointed out. "Your hero is warning her off."

"You think?"

She nodded. "If it was Winter, then I imagine it was Jenna who took the photo. Peter wasn't there. It might have been Edna, but my money's on Jenna."

Harry frowned, disappointed. He liked Jenna. She was his only compatriot in the place. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" he thought aloud. "Like you said, it happens to everyone."

"It doesn't mean you can't get revenge," Niamh said with a cat-like grin. "You really should come to dinner, though. Show them their plan didn't work. If they think they got to you, they'll only keep at it until you go."

With that happy news, Niamh took her leave. Harry finished lunch and then sat staring at an empty leaf of parchment, trying to decide what he was going to say to Ron and Hermione. Every single inch of him argued for firm denial. 

_  
Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_I expect you saw the Prophet this morning. As usual, they didn't quite do their fact-checking before going to print. I have not found love in Cairo. I was roped into playing a sort of kissing game called spin the bottle. No one bothered to take a photo of me kissing a girl. I suppose that wasn't as newsworthy._

_I don't know who sent the photo in. Apparently, it's perfectly normal for the other teams to gang up on an acolyte and try and make him run home. It's generally accepted that everyone will poke at a person's sore spot to see if he'll cry. All in good fun. I'm not supposed to let it get to me._

_It's a bit like going to a school where the only house is Slytherin. It's weird. They're a good group of people, really, when they're not being treacherous bastards. At the moment, I'm having a hard time remembering that._

_I'm keeping really busy, though. I'm taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy and both are kicking my arse. Not to mention, all my other courses. I wish I'd listened to you, Hermione, a bit more when we were at Hogwarts. I could use all those study skills you were always trying to teach us. In hindsight, there are a lot of things I would have done differently._

_So there's something I have to tell you, but I don't know how. I expect it's bound to come out someday, and it would be best if it came from me. I should probably do this in person, actually. I just don't know when I'll get back. I hope you'll be okay with it, because I don't know what I would do if you weren't._

_I'm gay. I'm sorry. I know it must be a shock. It's still a shock to me, and I've had a couple of years to get over it. I don't really know how it happened. I just know that one day I was normal and then next day, I wasn't. Ginny knows. She promised to keep it a secret. It's the reason we broke up. It's the reason I left the Burrow._

_I'm sorry. I should have told you ages ago, but I didn't want it to be true. And Ron, before you go mental, I promise that Snape is not my "sugar daddy." I didn't even know he was gay before the article came out. It was only by chance that the Prophet happened upon my secret. Snape and I have never done anything together._

_So, there you have it. The truth._

_Sorry._

_Harry_

__

Harry forced himself to go to the owlery and send the letter before he lost his nerve. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the archives, working on his research for Mistress Marchese. While he could hear that he wasn't alone in the archives, he saw no one.

As dinnertime drew nearer, he became anxious. He knew he had to just go out and get it over with. He had to stare into the faces of those who betrayed him and do what he could to laugh the whole affair off. To hide how much he'd been affected and emotionally harden himself against any future attempts. He took a deep breath and summoned the strength he'd had to call upon so many times in the past. The sort of strength to face a roomful of mockery with his head held high. 

Strangely, he didn't have to reach far. He walked into the kitchen, filled with a cold defiance that had carried him through his Hogwarts years. All conversation stopped when he entered the room. All eyes turned to him expectantly. "Hey," he said, forcing a smile to his face as he took a seat between Icarus and Niamh.

"Everything all right, Harry?" Dani asked him in a mocking tone.

"Fine," Harry said breezily. "How are you?"

"Interesting article in the Prophet today," the man said, pulling the paper from under the table.

Harry's disaffected facade faltered at the sight of it. He clenched his fists under the table.

"Can I see that?" Niamh said, standing to wrench the paper from the man's hand. "I lost my copy. Are you through reading it?" 

Daniel waved dismissively and turned his attention back to Harry. Niamh pulled the paper down under the table and laid it across Harry's lap. Harry felt a surge of gratitude toward the girl.

Harry shrugged. "It depends on your definition of interesting, I suppose," he said with a smirk.

"We're glad you stayed, Harry," Meredith told him sincerely. 

Harry smiled at her. "Why wouldn't I stay?" he asked. "Haven't you heard? I'm in love. And I've found a wicked Ancient Runes tutor."

Icarus choked beside him. He coughed into his fist in between fits of laughter that was echoed by everyone else in the room.

Harry grinned. "I just want to say that you all might want to think twice about doing it again. Now, the press will be sniffing around here, and I wonder what your families would think if word about what really goes on here were to get out. My parents are dead. If I'm forced to give an interview, I have no reason to lie."

He could tell by the wary expressions on the faces of the others at the table that no one had thought of this. He hit his mark. 

He thought he might have done well in Slytherin. He imagined Severus would be proud.

As he began to eat, feeling insanely pleased with himself, the attention trained on him broke into quiet conversations. Icarus nudged him and winked. Niamh leant in and said quietly, "It's official. I'm in love with you."

Harry grinned to himself, feeling suddenly much better.


	6. Chapter Six

_  
Dear Harry,_

_Hermione is making me write this because she said you'll feel better if it came from me._

_You're a prat, mate. Why on earth would you apologise for preferring blokes? Hermione said it might be a Muggle thing leftover from your evil relatives. It's a surprise, sure, but nothing to be sorry about. At least you won't be shagging my sister, which, in my opinion, can only be a good thing._

_And I would never think that Snape is your 'sugar daddy' (please don't ever make me write that sentence again). For starters, I'm pretty sure you have more money than he has. And secondly, it's SNAPE. You're gay. Not blind._

_Bill already told us he thought you'd been set up. He explained how things work over there, what with The Game and the initiation of acolytes. It all sounds a bit mental, if you ask me. He assures us it's fun, but then, he's always been a bit mental, too._

_Mum was a bit disappointed to hear that the kiss wasn't real. She thought this Icarus bloke looked like a 'nice young man'. And frankly, mate, game or not, you didn't look like you hated it. I'm just happy to see you're taking an interest in people again. We were all pretty worried about you for awhile. No one cares who you like, so long as you're happy._

_So, I have some news, too. I've decided to quit training and go into business with George. Neither Mum nor Hermione approve, but I think between his knack for invention and my eagerness to make sacks of money, we should do all right. We're already looking at opening a new store. As our silent investor, I'll keep you posted._

_Take care and don't let the Slytherin bastards get you down._

_Cheers,  
Ron_

_PS Harry, I'm so happy you told us. I hope you know that you can tell us anything. We're your friends. Nothing will ever change that. I'm sending along my Arithmancy and Ancient Runes notes. I hope they'll be helpful! Love, Hermione xxx  
_

Harry glanced down at the small cube that accompanied the letter. He wondered how large it would become once restored to its original size. He imagined that Hermione had sent him all her notes from every year at Hogwarts. Through his gratitude, Harry felt decidedly daunted.

His eyes scanned the letter again. A small smile crawled onto his lips. While he hadn't been actively worrying about their response – having had his safety exam and other coursework to keep him busy – he felt suddenly three tonnes lighter. His chest expanded without the habitual tension that he'd been carrying around. His head swam giddily from the extra oxygen.

Icarus set down his own letter that had arrived in the post and cast a rueful smile at Harry. "My mother is looking forward to meeting you," he said miserably. He rested his head in his hand and gazed imploringly at Harry. "If you were to fall in love with me now, it would make my life so much easier." A teasing grin broke out onto his face.

Harry laughed. "Sorry. I could write and explain it to her, if you'd like."

Icarus shook his head. His eyes dropped to Harry's post. "You should hide that before Niamh gets here," he suggested.

"It's not from Severus," Harry said. He couldn't help the pleased grin that stretched across his face as he slid the letter over for the man to read. He thought Icarus might be able to appreciate his sudden elation.

Icarus took up the letter and within seconds, looked back up. "You told them," he said. The joy in his expression echoed Harry's own. Harry nodded. Icarus laughed and stood suddenly, pulling Harry into a crushing embrace. Harry gave a wheezy laugh. The others at the table looked at them curiously.

"How do you feel?" Icarus asked, pulling away.

Harry didn't think he needed to answer. His cheek muscles were beginning to ache from smiling. "Relieved," he said.

"Free," Icarus offered. Harry nodded, and promptly found himself hugged again. "Ansuz," the man whispered against his neck, sending a little shiver through Harry's body. Icarus pulled away again. "This weekend, we celebrate," Icarus insisted.

Harry gave the man a wary look. "I'm not sure I'm ready for another party," he said wryly.

Icarus shook his head. "We'll make Raven host it. A small party. No cameras allowed. I will cook for you," the man promised.

"Shouldn't you ask Raven first?" Harry laughed.

"I will cook for him, too. He would never refuse."

In the end, Harry couldn't refuse either. The two made their way up for the curse-breaking lesson. There was no new project this week. Husef, Müller and Winter took it in turns to lecture on the different ways the detection, diagnostics and curse breaking could have been achieved. As the class with Master Winter was drawing to a close, Niamh leant over to whisper, "Are you going to send her his regards?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Dunno. She scares the hell out of me," he said quietly. If Severus' message really was to be taken as a warning, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to be the one to deliver it.

"Go on. I want to see how she reacts," Niamh pleaded.

Harry snorted and thrust his book in his bag before rising. He admitted to being curious as well. He walked up to where the woman gathered her things and cleared his throat. "Master Winter?"

"Mr Potter," she said with a dismissive glance. She brought her stack of files up and held them to her chest before looking at Harry expectantly. "Is there a problem?"

Harry shook his head and tried to smile as charmingly as he knew how. "No. Severus Snape wanted me to send on his regards," he said.

The corner of her thin mouth curled upward in what looked to be amusement. "Did he?" she said. "Well, thank you, Mr Potter. Perhaps I will have to get in touch with Severus." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "How are you settling in?"

"Great. Thanks," he said with a note of quiet defiance. "Everyone's been very kind."

"Yes. As I understand it, you're getting on well with your team members," she said. 

Harry met her eyes and shrugged. "Perhaps not quite as well as some have been led to believe, but I have no complaints."

She smiled at that. The smile lit up her eyes and made her appear something less like an Ice Queen. "I will see you this afternoon, Mr Potter. I hope you've taken time out of your social life for Symbology."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

He joined Niamh at the door. "It was totally her. Did you see that smirk? 'Message received,' it said."

Harry laughed. "You're worse than I am," he said rolling his eyes. 

"You did well with her, though. You didn't look terrified at all," she said.

"I had years of practise dealing with Severus," Harry said. "At least with Winter all I get is cool indifference. Severus always looked like he was struggling to keep from hexing me."

"Winter's all right," Niamh said, "once she's got the measure of you. Show no weakness," she advised him. "She's also really good to her team, unlike Müller, who just throws cash around. She has their loyalty."

"I think I prefer Husef," Harry said. 

Niamh nodded. "He's certainly a lot more fun. And he's not as ruthless as the others, which I respect. But he's lost a lot of team members to carelessness," she said, her tone going a bit darker.

"You're talking about Ellis?" Harry asked.

"Among others. Ellis was the worst, and I'm not even sure it was Husef's fault, but we just can't seem to hang on to people. I came in with two others. Amy got knocked out by the hazing. She was a bit plump and the others were cruel. Jordan contracted some strange disease from his term project and had to be sent back to Australia. Last year, we had two acolytes come in. Ling was caught trying to steal and so was sent home. Erika we lost to Winter at the end of the year."

Harry frowned. "It doesn't sound like any of that can be blamed on Husef," he pointed out.

Niamh shrugged. "Maybe. But next year's going to suck. It'll just be me, you, Michel and whatever acolytes Husef manages to bring in. Assuming we don't lose you or Michel."

"What about Malika and Icarus?" Harry asked, suddenly shocked by just how dire the situation was for their team.

"Well, Zhan will move on. He'll probably be relocated to a different branch. Raven will take Zhan's place as first assistant and Husef will have to choose between Malika and Icarus for second assistant. Malika, I imagine, will go wherever Zhan is sent to. Even if Husef manages to get one of the other acolytes this year to join his team, we'll have no second years and first years can't go into the tombs. It means a lot more work."

"Blimey," Harry breathed.

"Hm," Niamh grunted. "On the bright side," she said with a grin, "it's fewer people in the distribution of wealth."

Harry frowned. "But we only get a fixed percentage anyway. It just means more money for Husef."

She looked over at him with a grim look. "Exactly."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "You don't think he's deliberately getting rid of people just so he can earn a bit extra. That doesn't make sense."

"No. But I don't think he tries very hard to convince others to join us," she said. "You'll see how the others are. Once they've finished trying to get rid of you, they'll be trying to get you to switch sides."

Harry shrugged. "Not a chance. I already have more money than I know what to do with. And I like my team."

Niamh grinned. "Especially Icarus, right?"

"Not especially Icarus," Harry said with a look. "I like all of you. Even Michel, and he's French."

"Watch it. I'm half-French."

"Are you?" Harry said, feigning ignorance. "That explains everything."

The afternoon passed quickly, crammed as it was with lessons. Harry spent the free time he had after Research Methods in the Library at the Centre, learning to use their own researching systems as well as exercise the ones he was learning. He grabbed something quick to eat in the Centre cafeteria before going to Ancient Runes. By the time he returned to the dormitories, he was ready for nothing but sleep. 

He popped his head into the common room to say hello before going to his own room, intent on reading his Symbology textbook until it put him to sleep. He opened his door, turned on the light and froze in terror at the sight. His box had been opened and the scraps of paper lay strewn across the floor. His walls and ceiling had been papered with the front page of the Prophet, proclaiming his newfound love. Interspersed between the pages of newsprint were copies of his letters from Ron and Severus.

Harry backed out slowly and closed the door. His heart was beating rapidly. His chest constricted. Clenching his jaw, Harry returned to the common room, where Icarus had been lounging on the sofa. The others looked up when he came back in. Daniel gave him a cruel little smile. "Everything all right?"

It wasn't a conscious decision to draw his wand. It was automatic. Suddenly the man was suspended upside down, struggling to keep his robes from coming up to expose his large, hairy belly. His legs were pasty white and his pants a hideous orange colour. A chorus of nervous sniggers went up around Harry, but he heard nothing but the raging of his heart. "If you ever fucking come into my room again, you twat, you'll regret it!" Harry shouted. "Do you think I haven't come across worse than you? Do you think I haven't dealt with wankers like you every fucking day since I was born? Do you even fucking know who I am?"

He was trembling with the desire to physically attack the bastard. Suddenly hands closed around his shoulders. A warm body pressed behind him. "Let him go, Harry. You've made your point," Icarus said quietly.

"I'm not sure I have," Harry said coldly.

The hands squeezed. "Come on. Let him down."

Harry snorted and dropped the spell, sending the bastard crashing in a heap on the floor. He fought to find his way outside of his robes before scrabbling to his feet. Harry's wand was still drawn. His body shook. He silently dared the man to do anything at all.

Daniel's face was violent red. His eyes were bright with anger. Harry offered a menacing smile. "Still see something amusing?" 

"OK, guys. It's enough," Meredith said, coming between them. "Harry, you need to go and calm down," she said firmly. "Now."

Harry snorted. "So, you plot your little games, and you don't expect retaliation?"

"Icarus," Meredith said, looking past Harry imploringly.

"What did you do to him?" Icarus asked.

Meredith frowned, and Harry knew that she'd been in on it. "I didn't realise he'd go psycho," she said, glaring at Harry. 

Harry's hand tightened around his wand. Icarus' grabbed his wrist before he could do anything with it. "Really? He has killed before, you know," Icarus said in an amused tone. "He has to be a little crazy, no?"

Harry twisted around to glare at the man. Icarus took advantage of the movement to spin him around. "Come on," Icarus bade and guided Harry out.

In the absence of adrenaline, the panic came back. Icarus tried to bring him to his room, and Harry shook his head adamantly, unable to speak his protest. Icarus seemed to understand, and brought Harry to his own room. He sat Harry down on his bed that was just next to the door and knelt before him. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head, his body shivering now, his breaths coming quickly. "Okay," Icarus whispered. He went to sit behind Harry and drew him down to lie on this bed. He wrapped his arms around Harry's trembling form and held him tightly. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to reason with his panic that it was all right. The papers were in his room. Under his control. He would tend to them later.

He concentrated on reigning in his breaths, slowing them down. The warm tightness surrounding him helped to ground him in his body. He could feel Icarus' breath against his neck. He could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heart against his back. 

As his thoughts began to quieten, regret flooded in. Shame came along with it. This was the third time in under two weeks that this man had seen him breakdown. Icarus must think he was mental. All the evidence pointed to the fact that he probably was. It had been easier, when he was home, far away from any witnesses. He'd been calmer. He'd been better off with Severus, who understood his quirks and structured them with rules that Harry had been able to follow. It made Harry sick to think he gone this far around the bend.

"It's never been this bad," he whispered, wanting the man to understand that this was new. Apart from a few panic attacks, here and there, Harry had been fine in Britain. He didn't know what was wrong with him.

"Well, I guess no one has ever tried to push your buttons so deliberately," Icarus noted. "But, it was better this time, no? Not so bad."

"You must think I'm insane."

Icarus laughed lightly and stroked Harry's side. "I do not think you're insane. I think you are a boy who has been through more than anyone could possibly understand. The most traumatic experience in my childhood was my mother finding me in bed with a boy. If all the stories I have read about you are true, then I think you are doing very well not to be in a hospital, Harry."

"I wouldn't have hurt him." It was important that Icarus understood this. He may be a little fucked in the head, but he wasn't violent.

"Good to know," Icarus said, sliding his hand up Harry's chest and holding him close.

"To be honest, I didn't even mean to kill Voldemort. My disarming spell hit his Killing Curse and sent it back to him."

Icarus went quiet for a moment. Suddenly, Harry felt him shake with laughter against his back. Harry grinned. "Some hero, eh?"

Icarus sucked up a lungful of air and made room for Harry to lie on his back. "You tried to disarm Voldemort?" he giggled. The laughter was infectious. Harry sniggered sheepishly along. "I take it back. You are insane." He scooted over and urged Harry to lay flat on his back. 

The laughter lulled after a moment. Icarus stared down at him with a thoughtful smile. "I think we will let them believe you are dangerous," he said slyly. Suddenly, he laughed again. "Did you see his piggy little face?" he roared.

Harry laughed sheepishly. "His robes were covering it," he muttered.

"You were great. You are very sexy when you're angry," he teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. "There's nothing sexy about mindless rage," Harry said dryly.

"Passion," Icarus insisted. His index finger traced patterns against Harry's chest. "And it is not all bad, no? I have you in my bed." He gave a cat-like grin. His dark eyes glittered with amusement, and, Harry thought, something far more serious. It was this last that caused Harry's sudden discomfort.

He laughed weakly and averted his eyes.

"What have they done to your room?" Icarus asked, hand coming up to stroke Harry's hair.

Harry took a deep breath. "They papered my walls and ceiling with that article and copies of letters I got from Severus and Ron. They found my box and dumped it on the floor."

Icarus nodded with a frown. "I understand that for you, this is a nightmare, yes? When I first came, they set rainshowers in my room everyday for a week," Icarus said. "All of my things were ruined. My mother does not have a lot of money. What little she has saved pays for me to come here, so I could not replace many of my books. They put itching powder in my underwear and socks and slipped laxatives in my food."

"It's torture," Harry said angrily.

Icarus shrugged. "Is it? I am not harmed. They replaced a lot of my books after it was clear that I would not be leaving. It isn't malicious. Have you never pulled a joke on your friends?"

Harry frowned at visions of Fred and George, with their impish grins. He remembered laughing over the taffy incident when Dudley nearly choked on his own tongue. Laughing when Dudley grew a tail. It occurred to him very suddenly that he actually made money on practical jokes.

"I overreacted," he said, suddenly feeling sick. When had he lost his sense of humour?

Icarus shrugged. "You are not the first acolyte to fight back," he said. "The difference is that when you fight back, people get scared. You are very impressive, Harry."

Harry put his hands over his face. "I'm a prat," he complained.

"No. You are a boy who is used to being attacked. And I think you are a little tired of fighting. You came here to start a new life, and you have found more of the same. They have found your secret weakness, yes? I think this weakness is the only enemy worth fighting."

Harry knew the man was right, but he had no idea how to fix it. He couldn't even say when his mere annoyance at seeing his name in print had become a compulsion to erase it.

"Would you like me to go and take the papers down?" Icarus offered.

Harry shook his head. "I'll do it," he said quietly. He sat up and put his feet on the floor, his stomach swirling again at the thought of facing his rom.

Icarus came to sit behind him. He put his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Would you like me to come with you?" 

"I don't want you to think you have to take care of me," Harry said with a wan smile. 

"We are a team. It is what we're here for. If I was having troubles, you would do the same, no?"

"Yeah," Harry said without hesitation.

The two men made their way to Harry's room. Harry stopped to take a steeling breath before opening the door. The most shocking part, he thought, were the clippings strewn about the floor. All around him, carelessly dumped, strips of Severus Snape glared up at him in typeface. Albus Dumbledore lay where anyone might tread on him. 

Harry took comfort in the weight of Icarus' hand on his shoulder. He tried not to think about the words bearing down on him from the walls, the ceiling. He tried to ignore the increasing tightness in his chest and the nausea in his stomach. He sank to his knees and tried to breathe it away.

Icarus waved his wand and the strips of paper came swirling up in a whirlwind of scraps, lifting up off the floor before funnelling into the shoebox in which they'd been kept. "There," Icarus said. "All safe."

Harry pulled the box to his knees and put the lid on, closing his eyes. He felt the man next to him. "They are just letters," he said. "Random letters arranged in a pattern to which we give meaning. Harry Potter is not in that box." The box was tugged gently from Harry's hands and brought to sit on his desk. "Come," Icarus said, beckoning him up.

Harry looked at the man uncertainly, trying to keep his eyes from focussing on the glaring graffiti around him. He stood and went to meet the other man at the desk. Icarus turned him to face the wall. Harry's eyes closed reflexively, his hands balled into fists. "Open your eyes. Look at this photo."

"I can't."

"Try. Concentrate on the photo."

Harry opened his eyes, which immediately focussed on the large bold font spelling out POTTER. His jaw clenched and his mind reached to his scissors, lying in his desk. "You were terrified to kiss me," Icarus said softly, moulding his body behind Harry's. 

Harry's eyes slipped shut, the word POTTER blazing in white light behind his eyelids. Icarus's lips brushed his neck, sending his thoughts tripping down his spine. "Look," Icarus implored. "Later you can cut. Look at the photo, now."

Harry took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He could cut later, he repeated to himself, letting his eyes focus on the photo. It was taken from the side. Harry's hands held tightly to Icarus' shoulders. Icarus' arms held their bodies close. A flash of tongue could be seen as their heads shifted and came back together. Their mouths moved with single-minded purpose.

"Look at how beautiful you are," Icarus said, his hand sliding to lay flat over Harry's abdomen. "Facing your fears. Surrendering to your desire. So much courage, Harry. So much passion."

As Harry watched the animated image, he did not see himself. He saw two men, pressed together and doing their best to swallow one another whole. He noted how Icarus' chest rose and fell rapidly with his breaths. He noted how the man's hand clenched over Harry's shirt. How his own fingers dug desperately into Icarus' shoulders. He saw need. He could hardly recognise himself.

Harry took a deep breath, settling back against the body behind him as he stared, mesmerised, at the image. He had been terrified moments before the photo was taken. He stared now at a man lost in the ecstasy of surrender. He could no longer see words at all. A smudged blur of black framed the images papering his walls. 

It occurred to him that he hadn't even really looked at the photo. He'd glanced at it long enough to recognise the scene and panicked about the words. He could now see what Severus must have seen. He hadn't appeared reluctant, Severus told him. And while Harry knew the kiss had come in the context of a game, staring at himself now he could see why others might doubt it.

"Keep them up, Harry," Icarus said. "For a few days. When you start to panic, look at the photo."

Harry swallowed. "I don't know if I can," he said quietly. He didn't know if he could do it alone.

"Try."

Harry sighed, turning within the man's embrace to look at him. Icarus smiled. "You are very brave, Harry. You have already freed yourself from your scary gayness," he teased gently. "You can free yourself from this, too, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said uncertainly.

"With help. I am here. We are all here."

"Thank you."

Icarus grinned. "I will stay with you tonight."

When Harry's expression turned wary, Icarus sighed. "I will be on my best behaviour," he promised, stepping away as though to demonstrate. 

The thought of spending the night in his room alone with his name glaring down at him was daunting at best. The thought of what might happen if Icarus stayed with him filled him with terror and, even more frightening, arousal. He didn't want Icarus to go. If he were honest, he wanted nothing more than to melt against the man and drown in his warmth. 

"Ok," Harry agreed and then laughed at the silly smile that stretched across the other man's face.

"Good. I should tell you, I sleep naked," he said. 

Harry's eyes widened.

Icarus grinned. "For you, I will make an exception." He tipped his head up to kiss Harry's forehead.

Icarus left to prepare for bed. Harry followed quickly after, chased from his room by the glaring letters of his name. Harry changed into his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. Icarus stripped down to a pair of blue pants that clung tightly to his hips and left little to the imagination. 

"I'll never be able to sleep if you're dressed like that." Or undressed like that, Harry should have said. Harry's eyes were drawn down the man's sculpted chest, over darkly tanned, smooth skin. His face heated up. Other parts of him were feeling quite warm as well.

"Please, Harry. I am making an effort," he said. "I could never sleep with so many clothes. You look like you are planning to sleep outside." 

Harry snorted and shook his head. "I have a pair of pyjama pants you could borrow."

Icarus made a face. "Do my legs offend you? I have very nice legs."

They were very nice. That was part of the problem. Harry sighed and gave a desperate little laugh. "All right," he said, trying to remind himself that he'd spent an entire year sleeping in close quarters with Ron without losing his mind. Of course, he'd been straight then. Icarus climbed the ladder and Harry kept his eyes to the floor to avoid staring at the round hard arse moving below the thin fabric. He followed after, eyes catching unhelpfully on the image that mocked him from the walls. At the moment, he couldn't say if the text or the image was more disturbing. 

Harry settled under the duvet and stared up at the newsprint on his ceiling. 

"Thursiaz," Icarus whispered.

"Hm?"

"It is your rune for the day," he said. "Baptism of fire. Catharsis." Icarus traced a pointy D-shaped symbol on Harry's chest. 

Harry rubbed at the mark reflexively. "Thursiaz."

"The Giant," Icarus said, "With an erection." He traced the symbol again. A straight line with a tent shape jutting out the front. Harry snorted. "It is the symbol of male sexuality."

"Great."

Icarus laughed and let his hand rest on Harry's belly. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't say if I'm more nervous about my new wallpaper, or about having you mostly naked next to me," he confessed.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," Harry breathed. His eyes scanned the ceiling and caught on Ron's untidy writing. "You're gay," it said. Harry closed his eyes. "Will you just ... talk to me?" 

"About what?" Icarus asked settling on to his side with his head on the pillow right next to Harry's.

"Anything. Tell me about your family."

Icarus was quiet a moment. "My grandparents are Muggles. My mother was the first witch in the family. She grew up in a small tourist village outside of Rethymno on the Island of Crete. She had an affair with an English tourist and I was born nine months later," Icarus said. "I have never met him. He doesn't know I exist. I know his name was Graham, and that he was a Muggle. There is a small school for wizards near Iraklion. My mother and I moved there when I was ten so that I could go to the school, but still live at home."

As he spoke, Harry concentrated on the sound of his voice. It was a warm voice, with a soft, lilting accent that made Harry think of floating on water. He could feel the heat coming off the other man, as though his skin had soaked up years of sunlight and stored it. 

"My mother works for the Ministry in Athens as an Obliviator."

"Do you see her often?" Harry asked.

"No," Icarus sighed. "I normally go back to visit in August when the price of Portkeys to Crete are lower. Have you ever been to Crete?"

Harry shook his head. "This is the first time I've been out of Britain," he confessed.

"You should come home with me," Icarus decided. "I will take you to meet my grandparents. We can spend all morning at the beach and all afternoon getting fat on my grandmother's cooking. Then we dance all night with the crazy, drunk tourists."

Harry laughed. "Sounds lovely. Apart from the dancing."

"In Crete, in August, you will not wear these horrible clothes to bed," Icarus teased. His hand slid under Harry's t-shirt. Harry's stomach clenched at the touch. His hand covered Icarus'. "Did you make love to your girlfriend?" the man asked, as though he were asking if Harry liked the colour blue.

"No," he confessed, his face heating with embarrassment. "We tried after the war, but I was already ... broken," he said decisively.

"Broken," Icarus scoffed. "You do not feel broken to me," his hand slid further up Harry's t-shirt to lay over his chest. 

"You know what I mean," Harry said sullenly.

"Gay."

"Yeah."

"Not broken," Icarus said firmly. "Do you think I'm broken?"

Harry smiled. "No."

"Of course not. Before, you were broken. Now, you are fixed, yes?"

Harry gave a non-committal grunt. His breath hitched at the feel of Icarus' teeth closing over his earlobe. The breath escaped with a loud puff as a shiver raged through his body. "Icarus," Harry said plaintively.

"You see. Everything works fine," Icarus said playfully.

"You promised to be good," Harry reminded him.

The hand on his chest shifted slightly, fingers stretching out to graze over his nipple that was somehow hardwired to Harry's bollocks. Harry gasped before pulling the man's hand from inside his shirt. "Stop," he laughed, turning his head to glare at the man.

"Not broken?" Icarus asked softly, his face suddenly very close. Icarus' hand came up to press against his cheek. 

Harry's voice wouldn't work. His breath was being sucked up into that mouth that was just inches from his own. Icarus' fingers played with the hair at the back of Harry's neck. The man's eyes closed, head coming forward slightly to run the tip of his nose along the gently sloping ridge of Harry's. Harry breathed in the minty cloud of breath. 

Icarus pressed his forehead against Harry's. "I think we should sleep before I break my promise," he breathed. Harry didn't think his body had ever felt so awake. His mind called for his wand, which lay on the desk and so useless to help him turn out the lights. With a shaky sigh, he sat up and jumped off the side of the bed. He was slightly mortified to see the front of his pyjamas tented out to demonstrate just how unbroken his body was. He looked up to see Icarus grinning at him.

"Thursiaz," the man smiled. "My little giant."

Harry laughed miserably. He turned out the lights before climbing back into bed, settling on his side next to the other man. Icarus wrapped himself around Harry, hips pressing against Harry's backside. Thursiaz, he thought, and struggled to find sleep.

Harry spent Friday avoiding his bedroom. He carried with him a weight of anxiety throughout the day, that left him snappish and absent-minded. He spent the afternoon with the other acolytes, doing research work on various items the bank had been contracted to repair. Harry nearly set fire to the records when his researching spell went awry. Michel gave him an annoyed look, and huffed as he set about trying to erase the char marks before the librarian could see them.

The atmosphere around the dinner table was tense from the argument of the night before. Those who hadn't been direct witnesses accosted him with sidelong, wary gazes. At length, Harry snapped, "I'm not going to apologise. I didn't hurt him."

There was a long silence, followed by Niamh's muttered, "Only his pride." She had been rather put out to have missed the confrontation. She said she'd have loved to see the evil little git strung up by his ankles and flogged.

Meredith finally broke the silent tension. "You need to learn to not take things so personally, Harry. It's a fucking joke."

Harry stared hard at her. "And you should know that I've spent the last decade of my life under attack. You shouldn't take it personally if my response is to fight back," he said calmly. "I didn't hurt anybody," he repeated. "If you can invade my privacy, then I can show off your mate's ... privacy." He smirked.

Icarus exploded with laughter. The rest of the table followed. Meredith pressed her lips hard together, but the humour got the better of her. "Fair enough," she said, laughing. 

Daniel glared hard at his plate, turning an ugly shade of red. "Why was I the target?" he said furiously.

Harry shrugged. "You have a face that provokes me. It's nothing personal."

Harry judiciously refused to be engaged in a friendly game of Truth or Dare that evening in the common room. He sat on the sofa, next to Niamh and watched passively as the others made fools of themselves. An added twist to the game left several of the players half-naked by the end, after they refused to give the information requested or to do what was asked of them – most of which involved eating something revolting.

As the crowd dissipated, Harry entertained the notion of sleeping on the sofa in the common room. Icarus asked if he wanted company and the memory of staying up all night, not focussing on the man's cock pressing into his arse kept him from saying yes. He told the man he'd be all right, and Icarus disappeared to sleep in his own room. 

Niamh looked at him. "Come on, I'll go in with you," she said sympathetically.

Harry gave her a grateful smile and the girl accompanied him to his room. Her eyes went wide at the sight that greeted them. "They certainly were thorough," she said. Harry snorted and quickly gathered his things to get ready for bed. Niamh followed him into the boy's lavatory, ignoring the protests of Michel, who was stood pissing, and brushed her teeth along with Harry.

When they returned to his room, she followed him up to lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "You two are hot together," she commented, watching the eternal kiss play out before her. Harry grunted and tried to focus on the photo, but couldn't stop his eyes drawing to spot every single printed occurrence of Potter. His stomach went tight with panic. "Did anything happen last night?" she asked.

Harry swallowed back bile and shut his eyes to take a deep breath through his nose. "No," he said. "I just don't think I'd live through another night," he admitted with a weak laugh.

"Mm. You should just shag and get it over with," she advised. "What are you waiting for?"

Harry looked over at her. Her red hair spilled over the pillow. She looked younger without her habitual dark eyeliner around her green eyes. "I don't know," he breathed and looked back at the ceiling.

Both of them stared at the image a long moment. Niamh laughed suddenly. "The ancient Egyptian art of tonsil cleaning," she giggled. Harry laughed remembering Severus' words. "I love him even more for that," she sighed.

Harry grunted. "He's got a fantastic sense of humour."

"Are you waiting for him, then?"

Harry thought about it a moment. His mind blanked completely when he tried to imagine himself sleeping with Severus. His crush on the man had never been physical. He'd never imagined himself with anyone like that. Although now, it was becoming more and more difficult not to see Icarus like that. The thought made him feel somewhat guilty. "When I first got here, you said I wasn't his type. What did you mean?" Harry asked.

Niamh made a small dismayed noise in her throat. "Sorry," she said. "I suppose I bought into the image the world has of you, Harry. I saw you as this squeaky-clean, shiny bright golden boy. I just couldn't imagine he would ever be interested in that. I think he'd have darker tastes."

Harry nodded. "I can see that."

"But there's enough shadow in you to make you interesting," she said.

Harry snorted. "Thanks."

"So, are you?"

"No. I'm not waiting for him. I don't think he expects me to," he said.

"It didn't sound like it," Niamh agreed. "You could do worse than Icarus, you know. He's a bit gentle for my tastes, but that would be good for you."

Harry turned toward her. "You've slept with Icarus?" he said incredulously.

Niamh grinned at him. "We've not had sex, but we've fooled around."

"But he's ..."

"He's gay. I'm straight, but I've snogged nearly every girl in this place, Harry. Except for Malika," she said. "So has Icarus for that matter." She gave him a wicked grin. "He's got a wickedly powerful tongue for a poof."

Harry didn't think she was referring to kissing. His face went red. He laughed into his hands and shook his head. 

"Have you ever been with a girl?" Niamh asked.

"Yeah. Well, I've not _been_ with anyone. But I had a girlfriend my sixth year. Ginny."

"Ginny Weasley?"

Harry nodded. 

"I'll bet her tongue's getting a good work out, touring with the Harpies," she said with a salacious smirk.

Harry groaned, and Niamh cackled. "You're terrible," Harry said.

"You're adorably innocent," she answered. "It's just sex, Harry. The most natural thing in the world. And when you have a group of young, hormonal adults, living in close quarters with time on their hands, sex happens. After all the crap you've been through, I should think you'd welcome a bit of pleasantness."

Harry gave a thoughtful grunt. 

"Come on. Kissing's fun. Even if it's just for kissing's sake, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said. But kissing for him had become a source of frustration. He could still remember kissing Ginny, trying to will his body to respond. Kissing for him inevitably ended with the words, "Don't worry. It happens to everyone." It was a source of stress.

It had been different the other night, during the game. Kissing Raven had been terrifying and somewhat awkward, but kissing Meredith had been fun, he supposed. Without performance anxiety, kissing had been pleasant. With Icarus, of course, kissing had been electrifying. Suddenly the kissing didn't stop at his lips. His entire body got involved.

"So, what about you and Raven?" Harry asked, looking over.

She smiled. "Raven's great," she said. "Under different circumstances, I might be in love with him. But falling in love here would only complicate everything."

"Malika and Zhan are engaged," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're different. Neither of them really play. Zhan did, at first. But when Malika came ... they're made for each other, what can I say? Raven and I would give it a go, but eventually it would fall apart. I prefer to keep what we have now. He's the only one who properly understands the appeal of pain," she said.

"Pain."

"Hm. Baby steps, Harry," Niamh teased. "Start with Icarus. You'll need to work up to Raven."

Harry laughed. "I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly.

She sighed and grinned at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll put on a show tomorrow. You can take notes. We'll add it to your study schedule."

Later, when Harry teetered on the edge of sleep with his arm around Niamh, he would be surprised at how hard he'd laughed in a room wrapped with so much newsprint.


	7. Chapter Seven

Saturday morning had been dedicated to studying, leaving time Saturday afternoon to accompany Icarus, Niamh and Michel out into the market in search of fresh ingredients. After having gathered what Icarus needed to prepare the night's dinner, they went to Raven's small flat. Everyone pitched in to prepare the night's feast under Icarus' watchful instruction.

Zhan and Malika joined them for dinner. As Raven didn’t have a dining table, the team sat around the small sitting room and discussed nothing in particular. Icarus retold the story of Harry's stand off with Daniel, with a bit of embellishment for dramatic effect. Harry couldn't recall the last time he'd laughed quite so easily.

Zhan and Malika took their leave relatively early. Michel following soon after, telling them that he had a rendez-vous with Susan, the only female acolyte in the group, who studied under Winter. Niamh and he exchanged terse words in French before Michel left in a huff of irritation.

"We're going to lose him," Niamh said ominously. 

Raven and Icarus both looked troubled. Harry wrinkled his nose. "Maybe not," he tried. "I mean, if he's out for sex tonight, there aren't a lot of options here, are there?" He tried for an optimistic smile.

Icarus laughed. "I see nothing but options," he said with a wide grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. The four mucked in to get the small kitchenette cleaned before squeezing onto the only seat in the living room. Raven held a small tray with dried herbs on his knees that he was rolling into a cigarette. Harry watched fascinated as he stuck out his studded tongue to slide it along the edge of the paper.

"I'm going to guess that you've never been high," Niamh said to Harry. Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head. Niamh laughed and laid her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Harry. You defeated the darkest wizard of all time and saved the world before your eighteenth birthday, but you've not lived at all, have you?"

"Be nice, Niamh," Raven chastised. "Smoking weed doesn't actually constitute living," he pointed out. He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it. A small tendril of smoke escaped his mouth before being sucked back in. He passed it to Icarus, letting out a cloud of pungent smoke.

"What's it do?" Harry asked.

"Depends on the person," Raven told him. "It mellows me out."

"It makes me horny," Icarus declared, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Dude, that's just your natural state," Raven teased.

Harry passed on the joint to Niamh who held it between her nails and sucked expertly. She held it out of the way and pulled Harry's head toward her. Her mouth covered his and Harry found himself suddenly breathing in a cloud of moist smoke. He coughed raucously. Niamh took another puff and passed it back to Raven, while Harry tried to recover.

Icarus patted him helpfully on the back. Harry wiped his eyes and coughed again. "You should warn a person before doing that," he complained.

Niamh gave him a suddenly goofy grin. She slumped further down into the corner of the sofa.

Harry didn't feel anything, but the general mood in the room took on a sleepy atmosphere. Icarus gestured for him to come close and Harry decided to go with it. His mouth closed over Icarus and his inhaled the offering. Icarus' tongue followed the smoke, tapping Harry's playfully. Harry jerked back and laughed. The laughing turned once more to coughing.

Harry's mouth felt suddenly coated in a bitter sort of stickiness. His head swam slightly. He could feel a stupid smile stretch uncontrollably over his face, and he had no idea what the hell he was smiling about. He was incapable of keeping his eyes open, so he closed them. He relaxed back into the sofa.

An eternity later, or perhaps only a few seconds, Niamh's voice was suddenly close to his ear. "Here. Drink."

Harry opened his eyes. A glass of water was shoved into his hand and Harry moaned in gratitude. He drank the whole glass down.

"That was mine, you bastard," Niamh complained.

Harry laughed. And then laughed. By the time he'd stopped, he had no recollection of why he'd begun. He looked around to see everyone watching him with an amused expression, and he felt suddenly stupid. "Sorry," he mumbled, confused.

Icarus laughed gently and lifted his arm to wrap around Harry's shoulders. Niamh twisted next to him and suddenly his legs were weighed down by hers. The room was filled by slow, sombre music. Harry closed his eyes to see the colours of the music clouding in patterns behind his eyelids. He was vaguely aware of the arm leaving his shoulders, and spared a thought to be thankful for Niamh's legs over his lap, otherwise he might float away. He giggled quietly at the absurdity of the thought.

He felt he'd entered a timeless world, made up entirely of music. Gravity in this world was a powerful force. Harry wasn't certain he'd ever be able to get off the sofa again. Something was poking at his shoulder. The prodding grew insistent. Harry frowned and slid his eyes back open, rolling is head in the direction of the nuisance. He grinned in recognition of Niamh. "Hullo," he sighed.

She laughed. She lifted one knee and pulled Harry to lie between her legs with his back to her chest. The intent became immediately clear when Harry managed to focus on the other side of the sofa. Icarus straddled Raven, pushing his head back to lie on the back of the sofa and hungrily feeding the man his tongue.

Harry sat, mesmerised by the scene unfolding just feet away from him. Raven's ringed fingers pushed at the hem of Icarus' shirt, pressing red lines up the golden, leanly muscled back. Icarus' spine curled forward in a gentle curve as he continued to kiss Raven. Straight, white teeth closed over Icarus' bottom lip, inciting the most sensual little whimper Harry had ever heard.

Some part of him was aware that he shouldn't be watching this, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall why. The two men parted briefly as the thin, white t-shirt was pulled over Icarus' head. Icarus made short work of the artistically holey red t-shirt Raven wore, and then the two bodies pressed together again. Icarus looked down, breathing through an open mouth as Raven tipped his head down to scrape his teeth over Icarus' nipple. Icarus rolled his hips forward and gasped.

Raven pulled Icarus' head down so that his mouth was flush with the man's ear. He whispered something Harry didn't have the presence of mind to make out. Icarus shook his head. Harry could hear the soft mumur of words, but Icarus' mouth was shielded by Raven's pale face. They parted and grinned at each other. A decision had been reached. 

Icarus moved to resume his former place and Raven moved to kneel on the floor between his knees. The two men kissed again, teasingly this time, before parting. Icarus carted his hips forward, lounging back as Raven attacked his torso with a series of licks and bites. 

"Gorgeous, right?" a quiet voice whispered in his ear. Long, dark fingernails ran lightly over his stomach, pulling up his shirt along the way.

Harry hummed in agreement, unable to pull his sticky tongue from the roof of his mouth to form words. Icarus' face tightened with every nip of Raven's teeth. Raven stroked him through his jeans. The air was thick with breathing and low, needy moans that worked a sort of magic of their own on Harry's insides. Raven sat back, blue eyes blazing as he stared up at Icarus, hands moving to undo the man's trousers.

A sudden sense of wrongness seared away the fog about Harry's brain. Harry tried to pull himself up but a leg suddenly curled around him, holding him in place. "We shouldn't be watching this," Harry whispered urgently.

"They wouldn't be doing it here if they minded," Niamh whispered back. "Relax."

Icarus raised his hips to allow Raven to ease his jeans down. Harry closed his eyes quickly and tried to remember how to breathe. His discretion escaped him at the sound of Icarus' whispered oath, in a language Harry didn't recognise. Harry's eyes snapped open to see a studded tongue circling the head of a thick, veined erection. 

"Fucking hell," Harry breathed absently, closing his eyes again and trying to think of anything but the ache in his trousers. He thought of escaping back to the dorms, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to apparate and he didn't know the way on foot. A sharp nail scraped over Harry's nipple, causing his body to jerk. He might have come up off the sofa, but for the leg draped over his middle, pressing directly against his erection. "Niamh."

Her laugh sounded breathless. "Watch," she ordered.

Icarus' hand held back the devil's lock that normally hung over Raven's face. Raven's eyes were bright and unblinking as he swallowed the man down. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, invoking a whimper from the man he pleased. Icarus laughed lightly and threw his head back. "This isn't going to last long," he warned. 

Raven pulled up again, favouring the man with a salacious grin. Harry had never remarked just how pointy the man's eye teeth were. They looked positively menacing as that mouth stretched around the other man again. Raven closed his eyes at last, moving purposefully along with Icarus' flexing hips. Icarus' breaths grew ragged, interspersed with long moments where he didn't seem to be breathing at all. Harry's own chest heaved sympathetically. A mouth on his neck wasn't doing anything to help the ache in his trousers. The fingers that toured his torso seemed to be collaborating to drive him right round the bend.

Finally, Icarus arched up, balancing on the top of his head as he shoved his cock deep inside Raven's mouth with an aborted shout. His eyes squeezed shut and his mouth opened wide for an eternal moment before he slumped to the sofa and panted. 

Raven came up, licking the tip clean before falling back to his feet, breathing. His eyes turned to Harry. Harry nearly died from the realisation of what he'd just done. He could feel his face flush so furiously that he thought he might combust right then. The word "Sorry," fell from his mouth as he covered his face to hide from those startling blue eyes.

Thin, jewelled fingers pried his hands away. A mouth pressed against his own. Harry could just make out the thin wire of Raven's lip ring impressing itself on his bottom lip. Harry's mouth opened at the bidding of Raven's tongue, which carried with it the strange flavour of man. Harry's stomach leapt with realisation. He thought he should feel disgusted, but his mouth had other thoughts. It opened willingly. His own tongue reached forward to gather what was being offered. It stroked timidly against the ball at the tip of Raven's tongue. Raven's hand came to the back of Harry's head to pull him more firmly into the kiss. Raven's torso pressed against Harry's front, and a wounded sound tore from Harry's throat as the movement nearly pushed him over the edge. Raven slowed the kiss down and pulled away to nip gently at Harry's lip. 

Harry opened his eyes to see the man smile kindly. "Would you mind if I borrowed Niamh?" he asked.

Harry stared dumbly, but allowed himself to be pulled up while Niamh slid out from behind him. Harry slumped back and put his hand over his forehead, trying to bring his thoughts in order. Trying to will the blood away from his nether regions. Somewhere in the flat he heard the sound of a door close, followed closely by a loud thump as if something had been thrown against it.

His attention was called to the sound of laughter next to him. Harry glanced over to see Icarus, looking even more relaxed than usual, grinning next to him, eyes trained on the door. Icarus' gaze flickered toward Harry and the grin became a small smile. "Hi," he said.

Harry was unspeakably relieved to find the man had tucked himself away. His trousers remained open, revealing a pair of sunshine yellow pants beneath. 

"Are you all right?" Icarus asked, reaching over to take Harry's hand.

"I ..." Harry wasn't sure how to answer that. He felt incredibly heavy and relaxed, but his chest swam as though he would be panicked were it not for the smoky oblivion that tenaciously clung to his brain. Each time something bothered him, a second later he couldn't quite recall what it was.

Harry exhaled harshly, thinking he was about to say something, but he'd forgotten what. Whatever it was got swept away on the waves of music. Somewhere behind the stupefying sound, he heard a low growling noise, followed by another thump. His trousers felt incredibly tight, and the feeling intensified the more he paid attention to it. 

A light chuckle drew his attention back to Icarus, who stared at him with a silly grin. Harry remembered suddenly the reason for his discomfort. Hazy memories of the man's face twisted with pleasure made his stomach leap excitedly. His flavour of the man stuck in the film that coated in his mouth, lingering. Harry licked his lips.

Icarus peeled himself away from the back of the sofa. Harry felt amazed the man had the strength to conquer gravity like that. His awe was short lived as the man twisted to sit astride Harry's lap, facing him. Harry's hands moved to Icarus' hips, initially to keep the man from going anywhere near the dull ache in his bollocks. His attention was sidetracked at the feel of the skin under his fingers, the warm, hard smoothness of it. The deep, rich colour fascinated him. His fingers traced the gentle of Icarus' pectoral muscle and traced along the ridges of bone under the skin. He didn't think he'd ever seen or felt something quite so beautiful. "Wow," he whispered.

Icarus' hands were light against his face. Harry blinked up to see the man smiling at him. He grinned back. 

"May I kiss you?" Icarus curled forward so that his breath fell over Harry's mouth. At the moment, Harry could think of nothing he wanted more. He raised his head and closed his mouth over Icarus' bottom lip. The other man let out a surprised gasp, and tipped forward as Harry's head fell back to the sofa. The kiss was dry and slow. Harry couldn't ever remember his mouth being quite so sensitive. Icarus' tongue swept over his own. Harry's tongue tingled from the contact after Icarus' tongue retreated.

Harry was lost. His mind was mercifully blank, all thoughts washed away by the chaos of his five senses. His fingers stroked up Icarus' spine. His other hand tangled in the thick hair at the back of the other man's head. As his mouth moved in a slow dance with Icarus', the man's hands mapped out Harry's torso. 

"You taste like me," Icarus whispered against Harry's mouth, before sucking on his lip. Harry's arms rose in mindless compliance as his shirt was pulled up over his head. He opened his eyes and shivered as the cool air touched his skin. "You're delicious," Icarus said in a soft voice.

Harry laughed and lowered his eyes. "You're amazing," he whispered, his fingers following the line of Icarus' breastbone. Icarus gathered his hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss each of Harry's fingertips.

"You watched me and Raven."

Harry widened his eyes, his face heating up at the now distant memory. "I'm sorry. I –"

Icarus cut him off with another kiss. "Did you like what you saw?"

Harry swallowed back his heart that had leapt into his throat. "I don't know," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to urge his brain to function properly.

"Were you disgusted?"

Harry shook his head. "No." Whatever he was, he felt certain it was the opposite of disgusted.

"Excited?" Icarus' fingers ran lightly over his neck, around his ears, over his bare shoulders.

Harry nodded. He was rewarded with another kiss, long and lingering. Icarus shifted his hips back to lay forward, his skin covering Harry's in exquisite warmth. Harry moaned. It had been years since he felt this and his body sang from the contact. Icarus flexed his hips forward, sending a jolt of intense pleasure racing through Harry and cutting off his breath momentarily. "Please," he gasped, hands going to still Icarus' hips.

Icarus moved his hips back, curling his arm around Harry to manoeuvre him to lie along the sofa, before squeezing between Harry and the back to lie along Harry's side. His hand lay at the centre of Harry's chest. "Your heart is beating so fast," Icarus whispered, brushing his lips over Harry's shoulder. "What are you afraid of?"

"I ... I'm not," Harry panted. The fear twisting at his insides told another story. 

"Do you trust me?"

He had no reason not to trust him. The man tended to toe the line of Harry's limits, but never went further than Harry wanted him to. He knew all of Harry's shameful secrets and was still lying next to him, laying reassuring kisses over Harry's face. "I think so."

Icarus laughed. "You think so? Harry," he said with a reproachful look.

Harry grinned. "My brain isn't really working right now. It's hard to tell."

Icarus humphed in mock indignation. "I have been a perfect gentleman," he insisted. 

A giggle rumbled in Harry's chest. He slid over and turned on his side to face the man. "You have been," Harry agreed, pillowing his head with his folded arm. His eyes slipped closed. "You've been amazing," he sighed.

Icarus' lips pressed against his own. "You are amazing," he whispered.

"No."

Icarus' fingers stroked his chest and down his stomach which tightened under the touch. Harry bit his lip. The word, "God," was pushed out on a breath.

"I would love to watch you come," Icarus told him.

Harry's eyes opened. His mind offered him a vision of the man's expression as he pressed into Raven's throat. Harry felt his bollocks tighten further. "You do terrible things to my insides when you say things like that," he said with a weak laugh. The laugh cut off when he felt fingers circling his navel. Harry's stomach pulled inward to escape the torture.

"Inside here?" Icarus asked playfully. "Maybe further down." The fingers reached to brush just above Harry's jeans.

"Perfect gentleman," Harry reminded the man, pulling the man's hand up to lie on his waist. Icarus chuckled and leant forward to press another kiss to his mouth.

"Listen," Icarus whispered. Harry went still to hear the distinctive sounds of sex penetrating the door. Niamh's voice came in high whines, dotted by the occasional low groan from Raven. A rhythmic dull thud added a bass beat.

Harry looked at Icarus, who had his eyes closed with a wistful smile curling on his mouth. "You could have gone in there with him," he said, feeling guilty that Icarus might think he needed babysitting.

Icarus nodded. "I could have," he agreed. "But I wanted to be alone with you."

The intense combination of fear and elation took Harry's breath away. "Why?"

Icarus laughed and kissed him again, stretching out the contact until Harry responded in kind. Icarus' tongue tipped out, opening Harry's lips. The man shifted forward to urge Harry onto his back, gaining the access to kiss him properly until Harry forgot all about his question. Harry's mind was reeling with arousal by the time the man pulled away. "Relax," Icarus whispered. "I expect nothing from you, Harry. It is why I asked him to suck me off before he left. So I could trust myself with you." He grinned and bowed his head again to slide his tongue over Harry's lips. "It has not worked as well as I hoped," he laughed, pressing his hips demonstratively against Harry's thigh before pulling them back again.

Harry could feel the exact form of the man's erection impressed permanently on his thigh muscle. Harry gave him an apologetic look and laughed. "You know, I wouldn't know what to do with it, even if I wasn't nervous."

Icarus snorted. "The benefit of being with other men is knowing how to handle the equipment," he said with a teasing smile. "You cannot tell me you do not know how to pleasure yourself." He looked to Harry for confirmation.

Harry rolled he eyes. "Of course I do," he said. "But I couldn't do ... what Raven did to you."

Icarus gave a cat-like grin. "Would you like a demonstration?"

Harry couldn't tell if the man was taking the piss or not. His cock jumped in his pants to declare its willingness. Harry swallowed thickly. "Do you like doing it?" he asked breathlessly.

Icarus settled down again, draping his leg over Harry and tucking his chin into the crook of Harry's neck. "It depends," he said. "With some men, yes and with some no. With you, I would like it very much."

"How do you know?"

He could feel Icarus' grin against his neck. "I just know," he answered. "I want to be your tour guide to the world of pleasure," he declared and then laughed.

Harry sniggered. "My tour guide," he repeated. 

"If you will let me," Icarus said softly, running his tongue over the curve where Harry's neck joined his shoulder. He nipped at the sensitive flesh. Harry tilted his head back as the trail of kisses continued over his throat and then up over Harry's jaw to reach, finally, his mouth. His body slipped over to lie on top of Harry's. Icarus let out a low moan as his erection pressed against Harry's. 

Harry's plaintive grunt was lapped up by Icarus' eager tongue. Harry found himself grateful for the distraction the kiss provided from the swirl of uncertainty and need inside him. He didn't want to think about things. He knew if he were allowed to think about it, he would say no. If he did this, there would be no turning back. 

He summoned all the urgency and confusion of sentiment crashing through him and let it translate into the kiss. His legs parted to allow the man to settle more comfortably against him, revelling in the pressure of his weight against the insides of his thighs. His hand stroked Icarus' back firmly, silently pleading for that which he couldn't ask.

He felt momentarily bereft when Icarus broke away, sliding his hips back and breathing heavily. Icarus crawled off the sofa, meeting Harry's eyes as he pushed his jeans to the floor. There was no casual humour in his expression anymore. His eyes were dark and lidded. His mouth red and plump from kissing. His erection strained against the soft cotton of his pants.

Harry fought to catch his breath as Icarus looked at him, eyes dragging along his prone form. "I'm going to take your jeans off," Icarus told him before moving to undo the button. Harry held his breath as he raised his hips compliantly, letting the denim be pulled down. Icarus pulled off Harry's socks and the crawled back to kneel between Harry's knees. "Tell me if you want me to stop," Icarus said soberly.

Harry nodded. Icarus smiled encouragingly and took Harry's hands to weave his fingers between Harry's. He pushed Harry's hands up above his head and lowered himself deliberately. Without the rough, thick denim, Harry could feel the heat of Icarus' erection through his y-fronts. A little whimper escaped his tight throat at the sensation.

"You feel wonderful," Icarus said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He kissed Harry again, more cautiously this time. He released Harry's hands to stroke down Harry's side as his hips rocked gently forward once.

"Icarus," Harry gasped, his expression going tight as the movement rocketed pleasure up his spine.

"Harry," Icarus answered on a breath. He slid down to kiss Harry's neck, his mouth and tongue trailing down further to find Harry's nipple. Harry's fingers tangled into the man's thick hair as his tongue teased circles around the nub. When the man pressed his palm against the front of Harry's pants, Harry's entire body went tense. Icarus's hand did nothing but lay there as his teeth grazed teasingly, before his mouth continued its descent.

Harry lay watching the man kiss his way down Harry's pale stomach. He knew what was coming and his insides were taut with expectation. He was neither able nor willing to stop it. His balls ached from hours of unsatisfied arousal. Days of sexual tension. Tomorrow, he knew, he would regret this. Tonight, however, he decided to surrender to this desire. 

Icarus's fingers curled into the waist of Harry's pants as his tongue flicked teasingly over the dark trail of hair that disappeared into them. He glanced up to gauge Harry's reaction and pulled them down slowly. After only a moment's hesitation, Harry lifted his hips helpfully. He closed his eyes to avoid the sight of the man hovering over his naked cock.

Icarus' tongue grazed over the tip as he extended it to gather a dribble of precome from Harry's abdomen. Harry gasped and then bit down hard on his lip as the man's fingers petted down the length. The curled around the base and lifted it up. "Look at me, Harry," Icarus commanded gently.

Harry opened his eyes to stare down. He met the man's eyes and was forced to own up to what he was doing. What he was letting the man do to him. Icarus smiled before extending his tongue to tease the slit that was just peeking out of Harry's foreskin. The sensation was amazing. Wet and hot and teasing. Icarus pulled his foreskin back and the man's thick tongue circled the head, enveloping it in moist heat.

A groan tore from Harry's throat. He wouldn't last long. Already he could feel himself swell within Icarus' grip. Icarus adjusted his hand pressing firmly and holding his orgasm at bay for the moment. His mouth moved slowly downward, tongue wiggling along, invoking sensations Harry never dreamed possible. Harry's eyes rolled up, his mouth dropped open in mute encouragement. His fingers clenched over the man's dark hair. Harry felt a low moan vibrate around him, and his pleasure seized control of his voice once again.

Harry thought he might give anything to be able to take up residence inside that talented mouth and never leave again. Gone was any tickle of hesitation, any thought of impending regret. Icarus played him expertly, and Harry sang freely his appreciation. Without a constant rhythm, Harry's orgasm was teased to the surface and then held back by a firm grip and a change in tactics. The man sucked gently at the tip, tongue prodding at the slit on top before slicking around to tease the rest of the head. 

Harry opened his eyes again to catch a glimpse of his tormentor, and watched the man stretch his mouth once more over his cock, eyes locking with Harry's as he slid down. Harry couldn't look away. Icarus moved a hand to cup his balls, rolling them gently with a thumb to add to the maddening arousal that was once again reaching its summit. The man's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked hard, a finger pressed behind Harry's balls hitting some magic spot that was Harry's undoing.

Harry's shout echoed in the room as he jerked his hips upward. He could feel the man swallow around him, sending little pulses of intense pleasure rocketing up his spine, making his legs tremble. At length, Icarus slid slowly upward, his tongue moving to gather all the evidence of Harry's pleasure. Harry slipped wetly from the man's mouth, letting out a little whine when his sensitised and spent cock slapped against his belly. 

The next thing Harry knew, he was being kissed. A thick tongue drove into his mouth. Harry's hands went to Icarus' face to hold him as his mouth expressed his gratitude for him. He sucked his taste from Icarus' lips and kissed the man until he grew dizzy for want of air. Harry pulled away, head dropping to the sofa as he panted. "Bloody hell," he sighed.

Icarus kissed his jaw. "Good?"

"Brilliant." Fucking brilliant! his mind echoed enthusiastically. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Icarus said, grinning at him. "Anytime." 

The door to the bedroom opened. Icarus twisted around and Harry raised his head to see Niamh stick her head out, clutching a towel around her. "Is it safe?" she asked with a wicked grin.

Harry dropped his head to the sofa with a groan. "My life has become so weird," he said, laughing at the truth of the statement. He looked over Icarus' shoulder at the sound of footsteps to see Raven walking to the kitchen in a pair of black pants. Harry reached down to hike up his own pants and Icarus moved to lie behind him. It occurred to Harry briefly that he was in his pants and should find something to cover up with, but he dismissed the idea as completely ridiculous under the circumstances.

"Anyone want a drink?" Raven asked, before bringing a bottle of water to his mouth and chugging it down. 

Harry sat up and accepted the bottle gratefully when Raven extended it. He passed it to Icarus when he was finished, who finished it off. 

"You two sleeping out here? There's room in the bed," Raven offered.

Icarus looked at Harry in question. Harry shrugged. 

Raven's bed was a low, wide futon. There was room for four, but the fit was snug. It wouldn't have been so bad, except that Icarus was not the only one who insisted on sleeping naked. Only Niamh and Harry opted for clothing, Niamh commandeering one of Raven's t-shirts, and Harry keeping his pants on. The two shared the centre of the bed for a moment until Niamh complained she was too hot. She and Raven switched places and Harry found himself flanked by naked men. He wondered vaguely if Niamh was only trying to torture him.

His discomfort eased as the soft sound of sleep filled the room. Harry closed his eyes and surrendered to dreams.

Harry awoke the next morning sandwiched between two bodies. It didn't take him long to identify the owners of those bodies. He pulled his hips discreetly back when it occurred to him he was stabbing Icarus in the arse, only to collide with Raven, who stabbed Harry in return. Raven moaned sleepily, hand sliding down to Harry's hip as he pressed his own forward.

Harry lay frozen in a moment of panic before releasing his tension in a quiet laugh. His mind boggled at the farce he found himself in. 

Raven lifted his head and squinted down at him in the dim light. He groaned and let his head drop to the pillow, sliding his hips away from Harry. "Sorry," he breathed. "Forgot you were there." He kissed the back of Harry's neck.

"'S all right," Harry whispered back. And it suddenly was. He felt strangely safe, surrounded by a group of people who had invited him in and adopted him into their twisted little family. His reticence wore away a little more every time his boundaries were tested. Having spent all night in a bed full of bodies, it seemed absurd now to pretend toward shyness. No one else seemed concerned.

"How are you feeling?" Raven asked quietly, sliding his hand up Harry's side.

"I think something's died in my mouth. Good, apart from that."

Icarus laughed quietly. He reached back to lay his hand over Harry's arse. He grunted in dismay and tugged irritably at the layer of cloth covering it. "Why are you wearing these?" he complained sleepily.

"Self-preservation," Harry answered, grinning at nothing in particular.

"Smart boy," Raven said in a low voice.

"Optimist," Icarus countered, feeling at the waistband before slipping his fingers underneath it. Harry jerked his hips back reflexively, causing Raven to grunt in surprise. 

Harry groaned in defeat. "I think I should be on the end," he sighed.

"I think you should be naked," Icarus decided.

"I'm with Icarus," Raven agreed.

"I think you should all shut the fuck up," Niamh growled.

Harry sniggered quietly and tried to squirm away from Icarus' half hearted attempt at ridding him of his pants. Harry felt Raven roll over next to him and took advantage of the space to move away from the man in front of him.

"Fuck off, Raven," Niamh whined.

"Come on. It's either you or Harry," the man said.

"I vote Harry," Niamh grumbled.

"Cheers," Harry snorted.

"Only if you share," Icarus piped in.

"How about I get up?" Harry suggested.

"How about you all get up?" Niamh said acidly.

In the end, the three men crawled out of bed and left the woman to sleep. Harry left the other two men to make breakfast while he went to the toilet to attempt to have a piss. After spending five minutes willing away his erection, he was finally successful. 

"I used some of your mouthwash," Harry said as he came out. He looked around the sofa for his jeans, picking up cushions and peering under the table.

"Looking for something?" Icarus said with a dubious grin.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. Raven peeked out of the kitchen to give him a cheeky smile. Harry laughed. "My jeans?"

"Haven't seen them," Icarus said soberly.

"I find these things tend to turn up when you need them," Raven called from the kitchen.

"And if I need them now?"

"Now? Before breakfast? I think that's your sock there," Icarus said helpfully, nodding to a bunched up sock lying on the floor.

"Thanks," Harry said dryly. He took solace in the fact that both men had decided to put their own pants on before coming out. He'd use his wand to summon them, but he felt relatively sure his wand was still in his jeans. He went over to join the two men instead. "You know I'm going to stop coming to your parties," he said with a grin. "Nothing good ever comes of them. I get my picture in the paper. I lose my jeans."

"Your innocence," Raven added with a wicked smile.

"Not quite yet," Icarus teased.

"Ha ha," Harry said rolling his eyes. "Can I do anything?"

Raven handed him a plate of fruit and a plate of cheese and sent him back into the sitting room. He and Icarus followed with cups of coffee, milk, sugar, and bread. They sat together on the sofa, with both men flanking Harry, and ate.

Harry listened attentively as the two men discussed the developments in regards to the latest bid they'd put together. The rumour was that all bids were in and would be awarded soon. While they stopped short of sharing any real details, it was clear that they were confident that their team would be awarded the work. 

"If we're right," Raven told him, "this is going to be huge."

"What do you think is there?" Harry asked.

Raven nudged him with his shoulder. "All in good time," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm not likely to join any of the other teams, right?"

"God, I hope not," Raven sighed. "We're working with half a team as it is."

"Do you think Michel will leave?" Harry asked.

Raven shrugged. "It's hard to say. What do you think Icarus?"

Icarus looked troubled. "He will go," he sighed. "We have nothing to offer him. He'll go to Winter's team next year."

Harry frowned at the prediction. "Can't we stop it? What if we were to recruit Susan?"

Raven grunted. "Winter rarely loses her acolytes," he said. "I'm not sure what she offers them, but it's enough to gain their loyalty. Müller offers his signing bonuses."

"Husef doesn't offer anything?"

Raven laughed. "Husef is old school. They're not supposed to bribe the students. He considers it cheating," he said with a crooked smile.

"So why have you two stayed?" Harry asked.

Raven shrugged. "Because he's fun. He loves what he does and he's damn good at it. I like his enthusiasm. Winter and I don't get on very well, and Bill was already talking about leaving when I was an acolyte. Husef was just the logical choice."

Harry frowned. "So, what did the others offer you?" he asked Icarus. 

He looked down at the plate of cheese resting on his lap. "Winter offered to pay my tuition," he confessed. "Müller offered me an additional two percent on top of what I would normally get from the takings."

Harry's eyes widened. He knew that Icarus struggled with money and couldn't imagine why he didn't take the offer. "You said no?"

Icarus laughed. "I am still here," he pointed out.

Harry's esteem for the man increased exponentially. Part of him thought the man was a little crazy, but he was inexplicably glad that he resisted what must have been two very tempting offers. "Well," Harry said, "if I stay with Gringotts, I can't see working with any other team."

"What do you mean, 'if'?" Icarus said, poking him in the side.

Harry grinned. "I have to pass my classes. And I told myself that I would give this a year to see if it was something I really wanted to do." He shrugged.

"What do you think so far?" Raven asked.

"Dunno. At the moment, I can feel the weight of all the work I have to do back at the dorms," he said with a rueful smile. "I can't get my head around Arithmancy, and my room is dressed up like my worst nightmare. But apart from that, I like the actual curse breaking stuff."

"If we lose you, Harry, we will have no first years for the second year in a row," Icarus said gravely. "That will cripple Husef. The whole team will be disbanded."

"What we really need," Raven mused, "Is to get in a few more acolytes and move Harry up to first year in January, so that next year, we can get you in the tombs."

Harry snorted. "Raven, I'm not even qualified to be an acolyte."

Icarus shook his head. "You are very talented, Harry. You have more experience than most second years have and you have an innate sense of magic. Even Husef does not have this. If it were not for your extra classes, even Marchese would have to agree to move you up."

They made it sound so simple. Harry was already buried in more work then he could handle. The odds of him learning enough to pass the acolyte tests, let alone Arithmancy and Ancient Runes in the next six weeks were next to nothing. "It's not very likely, is it?"

"It could be," Raven said quietly.

"We could help," Icarus told him.

It occurred to Harry suddenly that this was a topic discussed before. Harry wondered suddenly if stealing his jeans was a means of lowering his defences. The thought made him smile. "You two realise that I've already got more work than I can handle, yeah? I'm not the most studious person in the world, you know. And even if I were to move up, that would almost guarantee that Michel would leave, and so we still wouldn't have anyone next year."

Both men grunted. "We need acolytes," Raven said. 

"Where do they normally come from?"

"Usually Gringotts starts upping the recruitment efforts in April in schools to catch the outgoing classes," Raven said. He gave Harry a small smile. "You don't have any friends who want to be curse breakers, do you?" he asked.

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Dunno. I could ask a few people, I suppose. The only one I know for sure is qualified is rather busy changing the world at the moment."

"We could take out full page ads in all the major international papers: Be like Harry. Become a curse breaker."

Harry's stomach gave a sickening lurch at the thought.

"That is a terrible idea, Raven," Icarus said firmly.

"Sorry, dude. I forgot your thing."

"'S all right," Harry said sheepishly. "Look, it's a moot point, anyway. I'm already a few months behind the acolytes on studying. There's no way I'd be able to fit the rest of the year into the next six weeks. Never mind half a year's worth of first-year studies."

Raven pulled his hair behind his ear and took the plate from Harry's lap, placing it on the floor. "It's not as hard as you think," he said seriously. "The project counts for the majority of your grade. The theory and Symbology test scores are relatively minor. If you concentrated on your project, and let us help you with the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, we can get it done. It'll be hard work, Harry, but you can do it. And then next term you can catch up on the first year stuff, which you won't find difficult given that a lot of it is focussed on diagnostics."

"The project itself is supposed to take a year to work out," Harry said incredulously. "I only got mine last week," Harry insisted, picturing the small gold scarab with silver lined wings under glass in his room.

"You have an acolyte's project, you can't tell me you haven't worked it out yet," Raven said doubtfully.

"I'm trying to do it properly," Harry insisted. The whole point of the project was to use the spells and skills learnt in the classes. 

"Properly?" Icarus asked.

"Without trying to feel my way through it. You said it yourself, I need to learn the spells."

"When it comes down to it, dude, we use whatever we have. If you can feel your way through magic then use that to your advantage."

"It's cheating," Harry grumbled irritably.

Both boys laughed. Icarus slid his arm around Harry's shoulder. "We all begin with detection, yes? You detect more than most. How is that cheating?"

"And you can't cheat your way through the report. You still have to do the research. You still have to go through what methods you used to work it out and break the curse. The only advantage you have is that you have a more targeted idea of what to look for in your research. Dude, that can only be a good thing."

Harry nodded to concede the point, and then shook his head. "I'm already drowning."

"We'll help," Raven insisted. "We will use whatever free time we have to make sure you know what you need to know. You'll be doing the same amount of studying, Harry, it will just be more effective. The advantage is that if we can get you through Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, you won't have that on your plate in January."

"After six weeks, you will be sick at the sight of us, but you will be very clever."

"It can't hurt to try," Raven added.

Harry looked doubtfully from one man to the next. "If I say yes, do I get my trousers back?"

Both men laughed loudly. 

"What do your trousers have to do with this?" Icarus asked.

"We wouldn't want you to overheat," Raven said with a straight face.

Harry rolled his eyes. "All right. I'll give it a go," he sighed.


	8. Chapter Eight

Monday morning saw Harry sitting with Mistress Marchese, Husef and Raven in her small office and listening to three argue about whether or not Harry should be fast-tracked through his first year and half the second. Marchese wasn't well pleased with the prospect and argued that, gifted though Harry undoubtedly was, he did not have infinite reservoirs of energy, and the study courses the other two were advocating would exhaust him. 

Raven in turn argued that learning more quickly and effectively could only help Harry in the end. Husef argued that Harry was a natural curse-breaker and was wasted as an acolyte.

In the end, Mistress Marchese agreed to let him sit the final acolyte exam to assess which areas he needed to concentrate on in order to be able to pass the exam officially in six week's time. She kicked the other two out of her office and then stared at Harry hard over the rims of her spectacles.

"I am not happy," she said.

"Sorry."

"It is not you who should be sorry," Marchese insisted. "They should not be putting this pressure on you."

Harry smiled. "It's no more pressure than I'm already under," he said. He wondered if he was being truthful.

She certainly didn't appear convinced. "You will take the exam tomorrow and we will see," she told him. "It is Husef's inability to retain his acolytes that is the problem here," she said. "If at any time you want to stop, Harry, you come to me. I am sure the other teams will be happy to have you."

Harry frowned. "I like my team, Mistress Marchese. I want them to be successful."

She shook her head. "To be a successful team, they must learn to recognise limits," she declared. "They must respect these limits."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He settled on, "Yes, ma'am."

She favoured him with a grim smile. "I will see you tomorrow morning at six, yes."

"Six?"

"Six," she repeated. "The exam takes two hours."

Harry nodded and stood. "Thanks, Mistress Marchese."

She grunted in response. 

Raven waited for him outside with a sideways smile. He put his arm around Harry's shoulders and walked him to his detection course. "I'll draw up a new study schedule," he said with a grin. "Don't worry. We're in this together, dude."

With a heavy sigh, Harry nodded.

Despite sleeping poorly that night, Harry awoke the next morning with a sense of grim purpose. He didn't know what to expect of the exam. But as Icarus said, the worst that could happen was they discover he can't be moved up and Harry would continue on the track he was on. Harry couldn't help but feel, however, that his failure would let down the whole group.

The first hour was dedicated to the written exam. There were some questions he could answer with little thought. Others, he had little idea how to even go about finding the answer. These latter tended toward diagnostics theory. He was predictably stumped on the symbology portion of the exam, but felt fairly confident on the spell identification portion.

The second hour was a practical exam. Harry sat in a room that was empty but for two chairs, a small table, and a gold ring with a large black diamond that glinted in the low lighting of the room. The ring was enclosed in a glass case. Several small stacks of books sat on the floor along one wall. Mistress Marchese stood across the table from him, staring at him from over the top of her spectacles.

"Normally, Harry, as an acolyte, you would have several objects that I would ask you to identify as light or dark. Given what I've heard of your abilities, I am going to do something different," she told him in a grave voice. "You have one hour. In this hour I want you write down everything you can about this object. On this paper, you have its history. You can use any book you need. Your objective is to break whatever spell is on it, without doing damage to the ring. We will see how far you get, okay?"

Harry looked at the woman warily. He didn't think he'd ever broken a spell in an hour. Even at Grimmauld place it normally took hours of spending time with an object and a fair amount of trial and error to even know what spells were on the thing. He didn't think she actually expected him to succeed, but she expected him to do better than the average acolyte. Harry nodded that he understood, and Mistress Marchese stepped out of the room.

Harry reviewed the history that was written. It was a ring that had been passed down over ten generations in a Swiss family. Those who possessed the ring were considered largely to be some of the luckiest people alive for their capacity to miraculously survive freak accidents. The last such survival was only a decade earlier when the last woman to wear it managed to survive an avalanche that killed her entire skiing party. She was found buried in snow three days after the avalanche with no injury more serious than a broken nail. 

Looking through the long history of similar miraculous survivals, it became clear that the ring somehow protected the person wearing it, and was probably responsible for the devastation to those in proximity of that person.

Before removing the top of the case, Harry cautiously shot light through the glass to ensure there were no violent reactions to magic. The light shone brightly a moment before dissipating normally. Harry cautiously removed the case as was suddenly shot through with a burst of confidence. He felt as though he had the world at his feet and nothing at all to fear. He could breeze through this test and probably take Zhan's spot within weeks if he would only put that ring on.

Harry recognised the feeling as similar to taking Felix Felicis. The feeling that nothing at all could possibly go wrong. He only needed to slip that ring on his finger. It didn't even occur to him to wonder if it would fit. It was made for him.

But that was ridiculous, he knew, and it would be absolute folly to follow that impulse. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands over his thighs, trying to sift through the superficial feelings to get at what lay underneath.

It would be so easy to give in, a quiet voice in his head told him. Why would he do anything else? Did he not want to succeed?

Not like that. 

Behind his eyelids he could see the soft comforting glow of the charm on the piece. The longer he resisted its lure, the more clearly he could also taste the oily muck at the back of his throat that signalled something distinctly darker. He grabbed hold of that thought and the entire nature of the ring changed. He could feel it turn sinister, the light swallowed up by a dark force that now radiated from the ring. A curse.

Without warning, the hind legs of his chair buckled, sending Harry backward with a dull thud. His head slammed against the stone floor. Harry groaned and rolled to the side. He put his hand on the table top to stand. His hand slipped and Harry's nose smacked the edge of the table as he fell forward. Harry winced as his fingers slipped along the glass edge of the case, cutting the skin more deeply than the blunt edge of the glass could account for. At last the ring was covered and the atmosphere in the room returned to normal.

Blood dripped from his nose onto the table top. His fingers left puddles on whatever he touched. He managed to heal his fingers, but had no tissue to sop up the blood spilling from his nose. His head throbbed painfully. He wondered if he shouldn't go out and try and get some help, but dismissed the idea. Twenty minutes had already passed and he still had a lot to work to do. He removed his white t-shirt, which was already ruined with blood and wiped his hands before covering his nose. 

He sorted through the books along the wall and pulled out two books on charms and one on curses before taking the lot to the table. He sat down in the remaining chair and aimed a diagnostics spell into the glass to confirm his suspicion that there were three spells bound to the ring – an impulsion spell, a protection spell aimed at the wearer, and a curse that radiated outward. His theory confirmed, Harry set about making lists of possible spells from the books he'd pulled.

The hour wore on. His nose stopped bleeding, but he could feel it swelling. It throbbed along with every passing second. He ignored the pain in favour of concentrating on the task at hand. He pulled his diagnostics text book out to look up the spell to test the cartography of it. He recalled that the spell hadn't worked when Daniel had cast it at the necklace in the class exercise, because the necklace had absorbed the magic before it could reveal anything. This time, everything worked as it should. A blueprint of the magic woven through the ring appeared like a ghostly double just next to it. The impulsion charm was woven into the band, while both the protection and the curse were closely knit into the stone. The closer the knit, he'd learnt, the harder it would be to break the spells without damaging the ring.

The impulsion turned out to be fairly simple to undo. When Harry used the cartography spell again, all that showed was the stone with its white and inky strands of magic bound together. Harry fired a few of the spells from his list to try and test the protection charm, but none of them came close to touching the ring. Counter-curses were likewise blocked. 

Harry checked his wristwatch to find he had only a few minutes left and he was out of ideas. He put his head in his hands and tried to summon the few lessons he'd had on counter-curses. He cast the cartography spell again and stared blankly at the ghostly image, trying to find the weakness in the weave. He couldn't risk exposing the ring again to try and feel for it, so all that was left to him was trial and error. Frustrated, Harry aimed his wand and muttered "Finite Incantatem" half-heartedly. His eyes widened as the ring glowed dark purple a moment. When Harry cast the cartography spell again, only the dark strands remained, loosely woven and barely clinging to the stone. Grinning, Harry fired the likely counter-curse just before the door opened to indicate his time was up.

Mistress Marchese exclaimed loudly at the sight of him, shirtless and bloodied. He tried to assure her that he was fine, but she was too busy telling him off for exposing the ring long enough to harm him. "Did you learn nothing in your safety courses?" she exclaimed.

He'd learnt not to touch magical objects and not to be alone with them, but the rules didn't seem to apply during test time. Technically speaking, he should have put the cover back on as soon as he realised there was a compulsion charm on it, but given that he resisted well to such spells it didn't occur to him that it would be necessary.

"It's nothing. My chair broke," Harry said dismissively.

She tutted at him and prodded his nose with the tip of her wand. Harry winced as an intense pain, followed by a clicking nose shot through his nose, making his eyes water. She gave him a stern look before turning to the ring. "How far did you get? Do you think you can diagnose it?"

"I think I broke the curse. I was just about to check."

She gave him a look that suggested she didn't think it likely before firing the cartography spell into the glass. She frowned and did it again when the spell revealed nothing at all. She turned to Harry with a baffled expression. Harry smiled. 

"And your observations," she said in a tight voice.

Harry pulled the blood-spattered parchment off the table and handed it over with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry," he said.

She stared at the parchment and then gave him another irritated glare. "I'll excuse you from your class this morning," she said. "Go clean yourself up. I will see you after lunch."

On the way back to the dormitories, he ran into Icarus, whose mouth dropped open at the sight of him. His hands went instantly to Harry's face. "What happened?"

"Got into an argument with the table," Harry said.

Icarus frowned. "How did the test go?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. The practical went well enough, I think. I broke the curse, but Marchese didn't seem too pleased about it."

"You broke a curse? Acolytes don't do curse breaking," Icarus said.

"She said she was trying something different with me," Harry told him. 

"What did she do?"

"Well, she didn't do anything. She just gave me this ring that I had to diagnose and disarm."

A flash of something like excitement alighted in Icarus' eyes. "She left you alone?"

Harry nodded. "I had an hour to do what usually takes me days," he said sheepishly. "I got there in the end."

"How many spells?"

"Three."

Icarus cursed in Greek and then pulled him into a tight hug. "You must tell no one. Not even Niamh, okay? No one must know. Raven, Husef, but no one else, yes?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about any of this, right?" Harry reminded the man, recalling the warnings he'd gotten from Husef. Everyone in the team apart from Michel was aware of what they were trying to do, but no one else. "Why can't I tell Niamh?" he asked.

"Not until you talk to Husef and Raven. I imagine they'll come and find you as soon as they find out," Icarus said with a broad smile. He stared at him a long moment before shaking his head. "You are amazing," he said.

Harry wasn't sure why he was so amazing, but the compliment made him grin stupidly all the way back to the dorms, despite the ache in his face. As he went to the showers to get cleaned up, he immediately understood the Marchese's and Icarus' reaction to seeing him. He'd clearly broken his nose. He removed his glasses and squinted to see the dark bruises developing under both eyes. His face was smeared with dried blood. He looked a mess.

He looked only moderately better when he stepped out of the bathroom. He blinked and held his towel more tightly around his waist at the sight of Husef and Raven waiting for him in the hallway. 

"Harry Potter!" Husef cried in a booming voice. He laughed loudly and came over to smack Harry on the back. Raven stood with his arms crossed, grinning at him. "You are a man of surprises, yes?"

"Yes?" 

"You look like shit, dude," Raven teased.

Harry rubbed at the skin under his glasses. "Yeah. Mistress Marchese fixed my nose," he said.

"She said you used your shirt as a tissue!" Husef laughed. "This is dedication!"

Harry tried to snort, but it only served to send a spike of pain through his head. "Dedication, stupidity. She didn't seem too impressed."

Husef waved dismissively. "Get dressed. Then, we will talk!"

Husef strode down the hall to go into the common room. Raven followed Harry into his room. He whistled low at the sight of Harry's wallpaper. "Didn't have you down as a masochist," he said.

Harry laughed and pulled a pair of pants on under his towel. "It's Icarus' idea. It's supposed to help me get over my ... thing." 

Raven laughed. "I think he just wanted you surrounded by this picture, dude."

"Maybe," Harry laughed, shedding his towel to pull on a pair of jeans. His fingertips caught and his hastily healed cuts opened again. "Shit," Harry said, bringing his fingers to his mouth.

"What did you do?"

Harry shook his head. "Cut myself during the test. I'm rubbish at healing spells."

Raven came over to pull his hand from his mouth. "The cuts are deep. A normal healing spell won't hold," he said. Harry watched as the man pulled out his own wand. He chanted in a low, melodic voice as he ran the tip over the line of the cuts on Harry's three fingers. The wounds closed completely during the third run through. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked as Harry sucked the remaining blood from his fingers. 

"Smacked my head when the chair broke," Harry said sheepishly. "I suppose it was stupid of me to keep it uncovered for so long."

Raven shook his head, reaching behind Harry's to feel the tender lump at the back of his head. "You're not dizzy?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine. Despite all appearances," he said wryly.

Raven held the back of his head, smiling as he assessed Harry's bruised face. "You're a legend," Raven said with a wide grin. He pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead before releasing him. "Finish getting dressed. We're taking you out for breakfast," Raven said.

The three of them apparated to the Centre, which had a small restaurant. After ordering, Husef put up silencing charms and then stared at Harry like a proud father. "I knew you would be great!" he declared. "But even I did not know how great!"

Harry gave him an uncertain look. "Because I broke the curse? Husef, it wasn't that difficult. The one on the necklace was much more intricate."

"And you worked that one out, too, didn't you?"

"Well, I worked out the weave, but Icarus broke the curse."

"Dude, Icarus only managed that because you told him what was there," Raven insisted. "You just passed the third year apprentice practical, Harry. That's huge."

Harry's eyes widened with shock. "But ..." It didn't seem right. "It was a fluke. I mean, I was just firing anything into the box toward the end. It was luck. Finite incantatem? That's eleven year old stuff."

"Ah, but that is the beauty, Harry. No one tries the simple spells. We forget what we learnt when we were children. Most students will exhaust themselves firing everything they can at the object, often breaking the object itself. But you were clever enough to know that the simple solution is often the best."

"We normally get two hours to do that practical, Harry. You did it in one. Marchese only expected you to come up with a list of possibilities. Perhaps cast a few diagnostic spells. No one expected you to break it," Raven said.

"She said that was the objective," Harry argued.

"Of course it is the objective," Husef laughed. "It is always the objective. But it was a test of what you could get done in an hour, yes?"

"So," Harry said warily. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Raven laughed. "For a start, it means you don't ever have to do another practical exam again," Raven laughed. "She's totally floored. She said she's never seen anything like it before. You didn't do as well on the written exam," Raven said with a shrug, "but if you had your project done, you'd pass even without theory and symbology."

Husef pounded his hand on the table. "But, we must have theory, yes? We must understand why what we do is working. You are already the best, and you can only get better!" He laughed loudly.

Raven laughed along, reaching over to muss Harry's hair up. Harry wished he could feel as happy as the other two men, but he couldn't help but feel like he couldn't possibly know enough. It was Voldemort all over again. He was being congratulated for doing something that came down to sheer luck. He didn't feel qualified to have succeeded.

"Now, Harry. You must tell no one what you have done, yes? No one needs to know about this."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I saw Icarus on my way down to the dorms." 

Husef's face hardened. He and Raven exchanged looks.

"He told me I couldn't tell anyone else, but I didn't see why the rest of the team couldn't know," Harry said.

Husef shook his head and smiled. "Never mind. Tell no one else. The fewer people who know the easier it is to keep secret, yes?"

"We'll tell the others that you were able to correctly diagnose the spells, which is already pretty impressive," Raven said. "I'll have a study schedule for you by the end of the day, okay?"

"You'll be dreaming Ancient Runes and Arithmancy before long, yes?"

After they'd finished breakfast, the three went back to the bank. Raven and Harry said goodbye to Husef at his office, and Harry walked along with Raven as the man went to the office he shared with Zhan. "Why wouldn't I be able to tell Icarus?" Harry asked. 

Raven stopped walking and looked at him. After a moment, he sighed and shrugged. "It's like Husef said, the fewer people who know the more secure the secret."

"Okay. But it's _Icarus_ ," Harry said. 

"It's just best not to say anything," Raven said. "To anyone really."

"Why is it so important? I mean, in a few weeks, if all goes well, I won't even be an acolyte any more. Then it doesn't matter, right? No one can steal me away, then." Harry couldn't help the sarcasm in his tone. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his loyalty. 

"Two reasons. The secrets we keep give us our edge over the others," Raven explained. "As we're so short staffed, we can use all the help we can get. Two, if you're too good, Harry, they might try harder to get rid of you."

"Get rid of me how?" Harry said grimly.

Raven gave him a wary look. "I don't know. But I'd prefer not to find out. I told you on the first day that you have to be careful about who you trust."

"You also said I could trust the team," Harry pointed out.

Raven sighed. "You can. Up to a point. Things might slip out in conversation. Or be overheard." He laughed lightly. "Look, the game makes us all paranoid. Just be careful and keep your secret powers to yourself, okay?"

Harry couldn't help but feel there was something the man was keeping from him. It was clear, though, that he wasn't going to give anything up. Harry nodded.

"Excellent," Raven said, smiling. "Now, if I were you, I would take advantage of the next hour and a half. It might be the last bit of free time you have for awhile. Do you want something for your nose?"

Harry raised his hand to cover his eyes. "I'm hideous, right?"

Raven laughed. "It brings out the green in your eyes," he teased. "Come and see me after your Research Methods class."

Harry nodded, before carrying on to the dorms. He went to his room, intent on having a kip, but started to feel uncomfortable surrounded by all the newsprint. It was okay in the night when the lights were off and he couldn't see it. He could even manage to pop in and out of his room without feeling sick to his stomach now. But lying here in broad daylight was proving a bit of a challenge, so Harry took his Diagnostics textbook and went to the common room to search for the answers to the questions he couldn't answer during the exam.

The others began to trickle in just before noon. Their reactions upon seeing him were identical, as was Harry's response as to what happened. "I tripped and fell into a table." He accepted their mocking laughter and their piss-takes with good humour.

Niamh laughed straight away when she walked in to find him. "That shade of purple really brightens your eyes," she sniggered. 

"Raven already made the remark," Harry said back.

"Icarus said you'd had an accident."

Harry nodded. "Fell against the edge of the table. It's not as bad as it looks," he assured her.

The two ate quickly before going down into the archives for more Research Methods. Today, they decided to target their efforts on gathering information for Harry's project. Harry pulled out the write-up of the supposed history of the object, and Niamh showed him how to use what was written as a spring board for further research. 

"Sometimes you have the name of the last family who owned something, and you have to find out about their lineage. You might come up with four or more families to have to research. Once we have names and property ownership, we might go to the library to look in the old obituaries for cause of death, or loss of fortune. Accidents that might have surrounded the family. It helps us to get an idea of the pattern," she explained.

They spent the next hour doing just that with Harry's object. Niamh insisted Harry do most of the work, but she helped him along with suggestions whenever he got stuck or was stumped as to what to do next.

When Harry met the other acolytes for the research methods class, Mistress Marchese scarcely looked at him or gave any other hint that they'd spent the morning together. She took them to the Centre library, where Harry continued on with the research for his term project. Michel and Susan took at the same table as Harry sifted through the bound periodicals to find anything useful.

"It looks like it hurts," commented Susan, a small, seemingly timid blond girl with bright blue eyes and a drawling American accent. 

Harry smiled over. "It's not too bad," he said. "It's what I get for being clumsy."

"You must have fallen quite early, no? You were not even at breakfast," Michel said, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

Harry shrugged. "I needed a piss and jumped out of bed. I lost my balance and ... face plant." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "So, how are your projects coming?"

He listened as Susan chatted on about her project and the difficulty she'd been facing at finding information in the archives. Michel, Harry learnt, had helped her quite a lot. Michel interjected that he'd not really helped at all, but the boy wouldn't look Harry in the eye after that.

Harry thought Icarus' assessment of Michel was rather correct. If they didn't intercede quickly, Michel would go over to Winter's team. Their best bet, Harry thought, would be to target Susan. He tucked the information away to reflect upon later, and got to work on his own project.

He left as class ended, and went directly to Raven's office. Icarus sat in Zhan's chair. Both men smiled at him as he entered.

"We were just talking about you," Raven said. "How's the face?"

"It'll heal," Harry said, feeling inexplicably embarrassed about the bruises now that Icarus was here to see them. 

"So, what really happened anyway?"

Harry sighed and shut the door closed. Raven cast a silencing spell as Harry told the tale of the ring turning the room against him.

Raven frowned at him. "Dude, you're lucky the ceiling didn't fall on you," he chastised.

"In my defence, the nose and the fingers were the result of me trying to put the case back on," Harry argued. "I just needed a bit more time to work it out. It's hard to see through compulsion charms."

Icarus stared at him. "See through compulsion charms," he repeated with an exasperated smile. "Do you hear him?"

Raven snorted. "So ... you've experienced the Imperius curse, right?"

Harry nodded.

"And it just didn't work on you?"

"It works," Harry argued. "I just fight against it. Like this morning, I wanted to put the ring on more than anything, but I knew I shouldn't. So, I didn't. It's still distracting, which is why it took so long to feel the darkness. By the time I got a good sense of what its purpose was, the chair broke under me."

"Compulsion charms always hide something sinister," Icarus said. "You really need to be careful."

"I didn't have time to be careful. I only had an hour."

"An hour," Icarus echoed. 

"It's impressive," Raven admitted, "for an acolyte. But the spells weren't woven together, so it was relatively easy. At least for someone who can diagnose intuitively, right Harry?"

Harry met Raven's eyes and hated him a moment for making him lie to Icarus, of all people. "Yeah. Once I had it worked out," he said quietly.

Icarus appeared heartened by the lie. He offered Harry an encouraging smile. "I bet you could have managed even if the spells were woven. You have a very special gift, Harry. You will become the greatest Curse-breaker in Gringott's history," he said confidently.

Harry shook his head and lowered his eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable and not just a little elated.

"First, we have to get you through your classes," Raven said, sliding over a modified timetable. "We've got a slow period at the moment because we're waiting on the bids, so we'll take advantage of that in the afternoons and on the weekend. Niamh will guide you through your project. You'll do all the work," he said before Harry could object, "But she'll make sure you understand the theory behind what you're doing and get the research methods down. Of all of us, Icarus is the best at Runes and Symbology, so you'll be spending lunch time with him. You and I will focus on the practical uses for Arithmancy for an hour every night after your classes." He grinned. "You're going to be busy, dude. But we'll get you through it. From now on, we are your study guides."

Harry frowned. "What about the other work that comes in?"

Raven shrugged. "You'll have to fit it around the work on your project. You might be spending a lot of weekends in the library."

"What am I supposed to tell people? They're going to notice, right?"

Raven and Icarus exchanged looks. Raven turned to Harry with an uncertain expression. "When you're here, you'll be spending quite a lot of time with Icarus. People will start to suspect that there's something going on between you anyway, so you might just want to ... go with it? What do you think?"

Harry glanced at Icarus, who watched his reaction carefully. "What do you think?"

"It was my idea," he said. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can just tell people that you're struggling with your classes, and I'm helping you get through them."

"Well that's pretty close to the truth, right?"

Icarus nodded. "But normally when an acolyte is struggling, the whole team helps them like we have been doing, yes? You and Niamh and you and Raven will work together off campus, to keep others from getting suspicious. They will wonder why I am the only one helping."

Harry nodded. "All right." It didn't really seem to matter anymore anyway, after everything. He and Icarus were the only two officially gay men among the students, so it wasn't too great of a stretch. A thousand butterflies took flight at once in Harry's belly at the sight of Icarus' pleased grin.

Not a stretch at all.

"Fantastic," Raven said, smiling. "So, I'll see you tonight. Do you want me to pick you up at the centre?"

Harry shook his head. "I think I can find you." Harry left the two men to their discussion and returned to the archive to carry on with the research for his project.


	9. Chapter Nine

The next few weeks were spent immersed in study, broken up by bits of practical work given to him by the other teams. When he wasn't researching for Gringotts, he was working on his project. He'd decided to take Raven's advice and start with the answer before working backward to decide how he would have come to the answer, were he doing things properly. It wasn't the correct way of working, but, with the help of Niamh, he was learning everything he was meant to learn in the process.

He spent every evening with Raven. By the end of the second week, his understanding of Arithmancy was gaining form. He'd already skipped ahead of his coursework in the subject. Somehow, having Raven explain why he might need to know these things helped him understand the subject better.

To his surprise, Icarus had opted for more traditional methods of teaching for his Runes and Symbology lessons. The man supplemented his lessons by leaving little notes, written in either Runes or hieroglyphics, for Harry to decipher. By the end of the third week, Harry no longer had to refer to his textbook to translate the runes messages. Hieroglyphics remained a mystery to him, but he was assured that this was completely normal.

Dinners were the only time of the day when Harry could switch off his brain. As predicted, the rest of the group teased Harry about his presumed love affair with Icarus. Harry invariably blushed at their gentle prodding, but Icarus took the teasing in stride before closing the discussion down with wry comment. To help combat suspicion, the two men made sure to be found some nights, nestled together on the sofa in the common room, quietly reading. Sometimes, Icarus would kiss him when he was sure there were people watching.

"You and Icarus are getting pretty close," Niamh mentioned one day when they were in the Centre library.

Harry shrugged to dismiss the stupid fluttering in his chest. "You know it's just an act to cover up the truth of what we're doing," he pointed out.

She gave him a dubious look. "Who are you trying to convince?"

Harry lowered his eyes and grinned stupidly at the parchment in front of him. 

"Just ... be careful, Harry. You have to work with him for at least another couple of years. Nothing fucks up a team quicker than a broken heart. He's a good actor, Icarus. Don't let yourself be fooled by your own game, okay?"

The sage advice darkened his mood for the rest of the day. Niamh was right, he knew. He thought Icarus sincerely liked him, he had no doubt that the man was attracted to him, but he couldn't let himself be fooled that it was something more than what it was. The game. 

That night, after his lesson with Raven, Harry went straight to his room. He sat a long time in his chair, staring blankly at the newsprint surrounding him. He scarcely saw the words anymore. While he wasn't sure if he'd gotten over his neuroses yet, he felt relatively certain that he was immune to this article at least. The kiss that was displayed in perpetuity in front of him demonstrated clearly just how convincing Icarus could be. And just how easily Harry could fall into his trap.

Harry sighed and decided it was time to redecorate. He pulled his waste bin from under his desk and started ripping the paper from his walls to reveal the dark green underneath. He was pleased to find he had no real desire to snip the names out. He opened his drawer to extract his box, and after a moment of grazing through the slips of paper with his fingers, decided to throw the box in the bin as well. 

With an insane feeling of empowerment, Harry brought the waste bin out into the courtyard behind the dorms and flicked his wand to light a fire. He sat staring at the flickering light. The door opened behind him. Harry didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"You didn't come to say hello," Icarus said, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders and staring down at the burning paper.

Harry sighed. "I didn't feel much like pretending tonight," he said quietly.

Icarus grunted and kissed the side of his face. "Is that everything in there?"

Harry nodded. 

"Does this mean you are cured?"

Harry snorted. "Dunno. I suppose we'll see the next time my name shows up in the paper."

"I'm going to miss staring at that photo," the man said wistfully.

Harry sighed heavily and pulled out of the man's arms. Icarus frowned at him. "What's the matter?"

"Tired. My brain feels stuffed," he said. It wasn't quite a lie. His thoughts were jumbled up with emotion, and he needed some space to sort it all out again.

"You're lying. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened," Harry insisted. "Really. I'm just ... eager to get all this over with." Harry extinguished the flames and banished the mess of ashes inside, while Icarus studied him. He cast the man a weak smile and bid him good night.

Harry spent the night staring into the darkness of his now blank ceiling and trying to sort out truth from his own delusions. He recalled having spoken to Severus about the man's time as a double agent. He remembered Severus told him that the most difficult part was trying to maintain some semblance of self amidst the roles one played. "It's frighteningly easy to get so caught up in convincing the world, that you become the monster you're pretending to be."

Harry knew the situations weren't exactly the same, but just then, he thought he could understand what the man had been trying to tell him. As he lay there remembering, his heart ached to see the man. He wanted nothing more than to sit next to him on the sofa by the fire and tell him everything that had been going on. He wished now that he'd come clean with the man about his feelings, about the real reason he'd left. More than anything, he wanted to perch on the man's bed with a cup of tea and make light of all the problems in the world.

It occurred to him that he'd not written the man in ages, despite his promise to write often. As sleep was proving an elusive beast, he decided to make good on the promise now.

_Dear Severus,_

_It's late, and I can't sleep._

_When I made the decision to come to Egypt, I told myself it would only be for a year. I didn't have anything better to do, and the thought of running far away from Britain was too tempting to refuse. It took coming here to realise that no matter how far I run, I'll never be able to run away from myself._

_I promised you I'd write often. I've not really had much time to write, if I'm honest. Master Husef wants me to take the final acolyte tests by the end of December so I can start in January as a second term, first year apprentice. I took the test to see how I would do at this stage. I was shit on the written part, but I aced the practical that they normally give to third-year apprentices, in half the time they normally give to solve it._

_Apparently, I'm a natural. Writing it, I realise I sound smug, but I'm not really. I unravelled the secret of the curse on the ring they gave me by accident. Once again, I succeeded through sheer dumb luck. I tried to explain that to Husef, but he wouldn't listen. By this time next month, assuming Icarus and Raven can cram enough Ancient Runes and Arithmancy into my head to pass those exams, I'll be a first year apprentice._

_It's daunting. Not because I don't think I can do the work, but because I'm not convinced I'm cut out to be here in the first place. I hate The Game. Because Raven and Husef don't want to rouse suspicions amongst the other teams of their plans for me, we've had to come up with a good reason I spend every lunch time locked in my room with Icarus. I'm not good at deception. I'm not good at separating myself from the roles I'm meant to play. I wouldn't have lasted ten minutes as a spy._

_The curse-breaking, I can do. It's everything that surrounds it that I'm uncomfortable with. I hate that people I sincerely like might stab me in the back tomorrow in the name of friendly competition. I hate having to play dumb in my courses because someone from the other teams might cotton onto the fact that I might be good at something and either try and steal me away from my team or get rid of me in some other way._

_All in the name of good fun._

_I'm sorry for whinging. I was just lying in bed and thinking of all the things I would want to tell you were we sitting in your living room by the fire. It kills me to think we may never do that again. It occurred to me the other day that I might have been wrong about what fate had in store for us. I think it's possible that our final purpose was fulfilled when you saved me from Grimmauld Place, paving the way for me to come to Egypt. All this time, I've thought of you as a sort of destination somewhere in the future. I hate the thought that the path I'm on now might secure you firmly in my past._

_I know what you'd have to say about all that. Strangely, I actually think I'd be easily convinced tonight._

_I miss you, Severus._

_Love,  
Harry  
_

**

_Dear Harry,_

_Whatever you might believe about fate, this is my advice to you: You must always act as though you are in control of your own destiny. If you're right about fate, you have nothing to lose. If you're wrong, then at least you will have taken an active part in your life._

_I encourage you to remain uncomfortable with the deceit, but to accept it as part of your job. There is a certain amount of honesty in living in such a ruthless environment. At least you have one absolute truth you can count on: it's every man for himself. I won't tell you to trust no one, but trust no one implicitly. Learn who can be trusted with what information. If you don't want to be stabbed in the back, keep your back to the wall._

_You're a clever man, Harry. Stop trying to make sense of the world in absolutes. The rules in one world do not apply in all worlds. Hold on to your Gryffindor principles, but try and accept that when you enter Slytherin, you must live by a different code of conduct._

_I'm not going to address what, after reading between the lines, I believe to be the real cause of your insomnia. There is a limit to the amount of selflessness I can pretend toward in one letter. If he ever does something to hurt you, it might be wise not to tell me._

_Congratulations on your recent success. I may have some news of my own to share with you soon._

_I no longer look forward to Saturday mornings._

_Severus  
_

"So?"

Harry looked up to see Niamh watching him from across the table. He glanced over to where Icarus sat frowning at his own mail. "Nothing much," Harry lied. He looked down again at the closing line. Severus missed him, too.

"Icarus?" 

Harry glance up to see Niamh staring at the man beside him in concern. Harry glance over to see the man with his fists clenching over his letter, his eyes closed. It was alarming to see the normally bright and carefree countenance so clearly troubled. Harry put his hand on the man's arm. "What's wrong?"

Icarus shook his head dumbly before rising. He left the kitchen without a word.

Harry met Niamh's eyes. Niamh shrugged.

The man looked no better when they saw him again in class. He sat uncharacteristically quiet when the work groups were formed to puzzle through the latest mystery they were given. Harry tried several times to catch the man's eye, but Icarus stared ahead at something only he could see.

He snapped out of his trance long enough to tell Harry to go down without him. He'd be late for their lunch. Not wanting to press the issue, Harry joined Niamh in the kitchens and prepared sandwiches for both him and Icarus. He ate his own while he waited, growing increasingly concerned as their allotted hour whittled away. When at last Icarus showed, he apologised for being late, thanked him for the sandwich and disappeared again.

Resolving to try and get to the bottom of things that evening, Harry concentrated his efforts on getting through his afternoon classes and writing up his report for his project. He was nearly finished now. As an acolyte, he wasn't expected to break the curse on his object, merely to suggest a list of potential curses, and defend their inclusion on the list. He spent the afternoon making his arguments.

He was tired by the time he got to Raven's that night. He went in without knocking, as Raven had insisted he do when they began these lessons. He froze at the sight of Icarus, leaning against Raven's shoulder, looking miserable. Raven met Harry's eyes and frowned.

Icarus sniffed and sat up straight.

"Hey," Harry said quietly. "Everything all right?" It was a stupid question. 

Icarus stood, followed by Raven. "I didn't realise it was so late," he said, mouth stretching into a parody of a smile.

"Take a seat, Harry," Raven said quietly. "I'll be with you in a sec."

"Kay," Harry said.

The two men passed him to go out the door, closing it behind them. Harry sat on the sofa and tried hard not to resent their friendship. They'd known each other far longer than Icarus had known Harry, after all. It was only natural that Icarus would go to Raven if he had problems. 

Over the past week, Harry had tried hard to keep an emotional distance from the man. He'd been mostly successful. If Icarus had noticed the change, he'd not said anything. The two locked themselves away at lunch to study, and occasionally sat together in the nights for an hour or so before going to their separate rooms. The lack of honest flirtation had taken the fun out of the study sessions, but Harry decided he couldn't have it both ways.

He now regretted the distance he'd put between them. 

Raven came in and forced a smile on his face in greeting. "How was class?"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

Raven shook his head. "If he wants you to know, dude, he'll talk to you about it, okay?"

"Is it his mum? Did something happen to her?" Harry asked.

Raven smiled a little. "His mom's okay," he assured him. "Don't worry about Icarus. How was class?"

Harry arrived back at the dorms an hour later. He looked for Icarus in the common room, and then went to the man's bedroom when he didn't find him. He knocked quietly. The door opened a few seconds later to a dark room. Harry looked over to see the man lying in bed.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked tentatively. He didn't want to pry, but it bothered him on some base level to see Icarus upset. It seemed to go against nature. 

"If you want to," Icarus whispered. Harry closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes before joining the man on top of the bed. Icarus was just visible in the dim light afforded by a curtained window at the end of the room. 

Harry curled his arm under his head and lay quiet a moment. "Is there anything I can do?"

Icarus' arm moved forward to drape itself over Harry's side. "Tell me why you are angry with me," the man answered.

"Angry with you?" Harry said, perplexed. "I'm not. Why would I be angry with you?"

"I don't know," Icarus said, a mildly amused note in his voice. "This is why I am asking."

"I'm not angry with you. I'm worried. What happened?"

"It is not important," Icarus said quietly. "You changed. What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

Harry frowned, thinking of his discussion with Niamh. He couldn't quite resent the woman, as she was merely trying to keep him from getting hurt. "It's nothing, Icarus. I just ..." Harry took a deep breath. "I'm not really good at all of this."

"All of what?"

"The game. The pretending."

"Ah," Icarus said, understanding clear in his tone. "You do not like pretending to be in love with me?"

Harry snorted lightly. It was close enough to the truth that he didn't think to correct the man. "I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I was angry with you." 

"I thought ..."

"What?"

"You are very good at the game, Harry," Icarus said in an ironic tone. He laughed lightly. "For a moment, you even had me convinced." 

Harry stomach twisted in on itself. He could feel the heat rise to his face and was thankful for the darkness in the room. Icarus slid his arm away from Harry and placed his hand in the space between them. Harry covered it with his own and closed his eyes. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"My mother is having some trouble," Icarus told him.

"What kind of trouble?" Harry asked.

"The kind that is easily resolved, Harry. It is nothing."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Icarus was quiet a long moment before he tilted his face forward to press his lips against Harry's forehead. "Forgive me."

Harry lay his hand against the man's rough cheek. He sought Icarus' eyes in the darkness. "There's nothing to forgive, Icarus. You've been amazing," he said adamantly. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I have tried to make it less difficult for you."

"You've been great," Harry insisted. "Really. I don't think I'd still be here if it weren't for you. And Niamh and Raven, but you in particular."

Icarus' eyes glittered in the darkness as he stared at Harry a long moment. He tipped his face forward, lips brushing Harry's in the barest of touches that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. Harry took a quick breath, inhaling the moist cloud of spent air that filled the minute space between them. A second later the kiss took form. A hand moved to the back of Harry's neck, as Icarus tipped forward to deepen the contact. Harry's own hand moved to brush Icarus' bare shoulder, the skin warm and smooth beneath his fingertips.

Icarus moved forward, urging Harry onto his back and trapping the blanket between their bodies. Harry's hand slid down along the man's bare back. He wasn't surprised at the discovery that Icarus wore nothing, but a spike of arousal forced his breath from him as his suspicions were confirmed. His fingers stopped at the gentle curve of Icarus' arse. This was dangerous, he knew, but as it was the first sincere kiss they'd shared in a week, Harry wasn't inclined to stop. His tongue slipped forward to brush the man's top lip. Icarus pulled away to rest his forehead against Harry's, letting out a hot breath. "Stay with me tonight." When Harry's voice grew paralysed with indecision, the man followed the invitation with, "Please."

Harry ignored his better sense and nodded. "All right."

"Go get ready for bed. I will wait here for you."

Icarus rolled off him and settled back against his pillow. Harry slipped out to brush his teeth. He put his pyjamas on out of habit, before slipping back into Icarus' room to find it bathed in a dim glow emanating from an orb of light, hovering above the bed. The man raised himself to his elbow as Harry entered. His eyes raked down to take in Harry's striped pyjamas. "No," he said in an entreating tone. "Harry."

Harry laughed and pulled off his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. Icarus raised himself to his knees, letting the blanket fall away from him. Harry struggled to keep his eyes on the other man's as he reached out and pulled Harry closer by his hips. The dark eyes watched him cautiously as the hands pushed down the fabric of his pyjama bottoms. 

Harry's hands moved to the man's shoulders, gripping to keep from rushing to cling to his clothes. He trusted Icarus. He'd been naked with him before, he recalled, except that the last time Icarus had kept his own pants on. Icarus' lips pressed against his breastbone, just above Harry's thudding heart. As Harry's pants pooled around his ankles, Icarus moved back again to make room for Harry in bed. Harry blushed as Icarus smiled approvingly at Harry's naked form. He slipped into bed and under the blanket.

"Thank you."

Harry shook his head with a smile. "I trust you," he reminded the man.

Some indescribable flicker lit up in Icarus' eyes before he closed them and moved forward to kiss Harry lightly. "You are safe with me," he promised quietly.

Harry took a deep breath to dispel a tightening in his chest. "I know."

Icarus gave him a sly smile. "I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight, Harry," he said with mock severity. "A perfect gentleman," he added, as he pulled his wand out from under the pillow and put out the light.

Harry laughed and let himself be pulled to lie against the man. Icarus' chest was warm against Harry's back. The man kept his hips at a safe distance. His hand stroked firmly down Harry's side to rest, cupped around Harry's hip bone. Harry could feel each individual fingertip against the taut, sensitive skin. The man pressed a kiss against Harry's neck, sending a shiver racing down Harry's spine. 

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night," Harry answered, thinking it would be a miracle if he fell asleep now. Every single inch of him was aware of the body behind him. He thought he understood what a tuning fork must feel like.

The fingertips at the hollow underside of his hip bone stroked gently from side to side, as though trying to rub out the marks left there before. Icarus' breath puffed against his neck steadily. Harry reached his hand back to lay it against Icarus' hip, fingers splayed along the gentle curve of the man's arse. The room was silent but for their breathing. In the distance, Harry could hear the low hum of voices coming from the common room.

"I should have let you keep your pyjamas," Icarus whispered.

Harry laughed into the pillow.

"Are you tired?"

"Not anymore."

Icarus' knee moved forward, forcing Harry's forward in turn. His hips came flush with Harry's. Harry attention was drawn toward the erection pressed against his tailbone. He bit down on his bottom lip and drew a deep breath through his nose. Icarus kissed up the back of his neck before scraping his teeth along the shell of Harry's ear. "You feel wonderful."

Wonderful seemed to be inadequate to describe the feeling of having the man pressed up behind him. Harry couldn't think of anything that felt better. Not even flying came close to this. His skin tingled at every point of contact. Their legs were pressed together. Icarus' stomach rose and fell against his back with every breath. His hand held his hip bone tightly. His lips caressed the length of Harry' neck sending out little bursts of pleasure everywhere they touched.

Harry's hand pressed back against the man's arse. Icarus' hips rocked forward, his cock sliding between Harry's arse cheeks. The man's breath hitched before being expelled in a whispered oath that seemed to feed Harry's sudden feeling of recklessness. He was filled with an overwhelming need to offer himself up for this man's pleasure. His hips arched backward toward this noble purpose.

Icarus didn't seem of a mind to argue. His hips took up a slow, grinding rhythm. His breaths came in quick uneven gasps as his mouth feasted on every inch of skin he could comfortably reach. His hand slipped down between Harry's legs to close over Harry's erection. Both men moaned at the contact.

Harry twisted his head awkwardly. Releasing his hold on the man's arse, he brought his hand up to pull Icarus into a kiss. Harry swallowed back a whimper as Icarus' hand worked over him expertly. His hips rocked along with Icarus' to help the other man along until his own pleasure overcame his noble intentions. His breath came in panicked little gasps.

"Come for me, Harry," Icarus whispered. "Come, let me hear you." A constant stream of encouragements were fed into Harry's mouth until he could do nothing but obey. His stomach clenched hard as orgasm took him, wrenching a tight groan from his throat. Icarus continued to milk him until Harry trembled.

Finally he was released. Icarus pulled his hips back and collapsed down to the bed. Harry rolled over to face him, watching as the man wrapped his hand around his own cock, spreading Harry's seed over it. Harry kissed him properly now that the position allowed him to do so. His own hand went timidly down to stroke the tip of the man's erection, wondering at the silkiness of it. He supposed his own must feel the same, but somehow touching another man felt different to him.

Icarus moaned in encouragement as his hand moved to guide Harry's along. There was something deeply satisfying about the whimpers he was able to incite. Each moan symbolised a small victory, each gasp, each time Icarus forgot to kiss him back for a moment, Harry felt a little more powerful. He finally pulled back to focus on the man's face. Icarus' hand came up to stroke his cheek. A long, sticky finger slid between Harry's lips, caressing the tip of Harry's tongue.

Icarus swelled against Harry's palm. Harry circled the slick head with his thumb before picking up the pace, watching the man's expression go tight with pleasure. He was going to come. Harry was making him come. Icarus' mouth opened and closed silently. A low moan seeped out of his throat before cutting off altogether. Harry stomach and hand was suddenly coated with warm liquid, but Harry's attention was fixed on the man's face, eyes squeezed shut, head arching back, mouth wide with a silent shout of ecstasy.

Harry knew then that it was too late to pretend otherwise. He was smitten.

Harry released the man and brought his sodden hand up. His tongue came out to venture a taste. It tingled slightly where the slightly bitter-salty liquid touched it.

"Theoí mou," Icarus breathed before pushing Harry onto his back and kissing him soundly. Their stomachs slipped wetly against each other. Icarus' hand closed over Harry's. He kissed him until the spunk grew cold and sticky between them, and then he kissed him some more. At length, the man broke away to plant small wet kisses over Harry's face. A sibilant stream of words issued forth from his lips for which Harry had no translation.

Harry grinned. "I don't understand a word you're saying."

"I'm telling you all my secrets," Icarus said, smiling down at him. He rested his elbows on either side of Harry's head. 

An undignified giggle bubbled up from the well of joy in Harry's chest. "Do you have many?"

"Don't we all?" The man bent down to kiss Harry again, slowly this time. "Whatever happens, Harry, I will take care of you." He pulled back to meet his eyes. "You know this, yes?"

Harry gave him a perplexed smile and nodded. "I'll take care of you, too," he vowed.

Icarus looked at him a long moment before sitting up to straddle Harry's hips. A few flicks of his wand found the two men clean. Icarus slid forward again to settle on top of Harry's body, his head resting on Harry's shoulder. "Do you know the story of Icarus?"

"He was the one with the wings, right?" Harry whispered.

Icarus laughed lightly. "The one with the wings," he confirmed. "Who flew too close to the sun and ended up drowning in the sea."

Harry's arms closed more tightly around the other man. "There's a happy thought," he said wryly.

"I cannot decide if you are the sun or the sea."

"Why do I have to be either?" Harry asked, frowning into the darkness.

Icarus raised his head and then bent down to kiss him lightly before rolling to the side. He drew Harry to spoon up alongside him. "Why do I have to be Icarus?" he asked rhetorically, and then kissed Harry on the shoulder. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night," Harry whispered. He listened to the sound of the other man's breathing steady and tried to puzzle out why Icarus might see him as a threat of any kind.

Harry awoke the next morning with all thoughts of Greek tragedies banished by the feeling of a warm mouth working over his skin, leaving a trail of wet kissed down the centre of his chest, down his belly. Harry's hands flew to Icarus' head as the man took him into his mouth and proceeded to suck the wits out of him.

After an explosive finish, Icarus crawled up to sit astride his hips and proceeded to stroke himself while Harry watched, mesmerised by the other man. When he finished, Icarus curled down and kissed him, despite the fuzz of death coating Harry's mouth. "Good morning, sunshine," the man whispered with a grin.

Harry frowned. "So, you've decided, then."

"Decided?"

"I'm the sun. Does that mean you should stay away from me?"

Icarus laughed. "I think it's too late for caution."

The words echoed Harry's sentiment exactly.

Icarus cleaned them both before offering Harry a towel and pulling him toward the showers where they both made sure the other was thoroughly clean. They parted to dress and met again at breakfast, where they were treated with sly smirks and knowing looks. Harry found he didn't care in the least. Not even Niamh's worried stare could dampen his spirits this morning. 

He had a hard time staying focussed in class, as his eyes kept wandering over to Icarus, who was invariably looking at him, but eventually their work group managed to come up with a list of counter-curses to break the spell on the locket at the centre of the room. He found all he really wanted was to finish the class so that he might spend lunchtime alone with Icarus.

As he was leaving, Master Müller asked him to stay behind. Icarus' expression went stony for an instant. "I'll wait outside for you," he said, loud enough for the man to hear. Harry nodded and leant into the hand on his shoulder.

"No need to wait, Mr Stathakis," Master Müller said, as he gathered his things. "This may take awhile."

Icarus' hand tightened on his shoulder. Harry turned, wrinkling his nose. Icarus gave him a grim look. "I'll see you this afternoon," he said in a low voice. His gaze was worried as he glanced back at Müller. With a small smile in Harry's direction, Icarus took his leave. Harry shifted his bag on his shoulder and waited expectantly.

Master Müller favoured him with a tight smile once the rest of the class filtered out. "Walk with me," he said.

Harry followed the man out of the classroom and down the corridor leading away from the dorms. "Normally I study over the lunch hour, sir," Harry said, managing to extract the resentment from his voice.

"So I've heard," Müller said jovially. "I admire your dedication, Mr Potter. It isn't easy to begin so late in the year. And having to take extra classes as well," the man said. "It is amazing that you're still standing."

"My team mates have helped quite a lot," Harry said quietly. "They've been really great," he added, wanting to make it clear that he was both indebted and loyal to them.

"I'm sure they have helped you. And with good reason, you are very talented," Müller said.

"I don't know about that, sir," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Ja, komm," the man said with a knowing smile. "On your first day in class you were able to decode a curse that took the rest of your peers a week to work out."

"It was a lucky guess, sir," Harry said firmly, "based on the information Husef gave us."

Müller stopped and looked at him. "Mr Potter, I know you have been warned not to share your talent with the other teams. It is this _game_ your master is so fond of playing, oder? But we all work for Gringotts, do we not?"

"Yes, sir. But it really was lucky," Harry insisted.

"As you wish," the man said and began walking again. "Have you met my assistants, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, sir. Briefly."

"Gut so. We need some help with some genealogy research. Lisa will give you the details," the man said, climbing the stairs toward the corridor where Raven and Zhan had their offices. The door was opened as they past. Raven looked over, eyes widening as he saw Harry walking with Müller.

"Harry?"

Harry stopped and gave him a small smile.

"Mr Kennedy, we are quite pressed for time."

Harry looked to see Zhan's eyes narrow at the man. 

"Over lunch?" Raven said, leaning against the door jamb.

"You needn't worry. We will ensure Mr Potter is fed," Müller simpered with a condescending smile. "Unless you have him working on something else?"

Raven looked at Harry and shook his head. "I'll see you tonight, yeah?" he said.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't. Instead, he gave the man a reassuring smile to try and communicate that he didn't need to worry. The man didn't look reassured.

Harry continued walking until Müller stopped in front of a closed door. He knocked three times before entering. A dark-skinned man with long black dreadlocks and a woman with tidy blond hair looked up from their respective desks. Lisa, who Harry had met once before when she came to enlist the help of the acolytes, smiled at him. "Hi, Harry," she said kindly.

Winston greeted him with equal warmth.

"Lisa, I will leave Mr Potter to you. Mr Potter, this is very important work that will need to be done by Monday morning. Lisa will explain everything. Thank you for your help."

Lisa slid out from behind her desk and pulled on a yellow cardigan as Müller took his leave. "We'll grab something quick to eat at the Centre," she said with a smile. "My treat, okay?"

"So, why aren't you using Jean, Max or Erika for this?" Harry asked the woman as they sat down for lunch.

"They're each working on a separate part," Lisa told him. "It's Gringotts business, so we've got to get it in quickly," she said. Harry understood that it was the official curse-breaking business of the bank, which meant there were clients behind it. He'd already been enlisted by his team and others to do some of the research work on such objects, but normally the acolytes were addressed as a group and not singled out. It was this detail that made Harry suspicious.

"You know Bill Weasley," Lisa said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. You worked for him right?"

"Hm," she sighed wistfully. "He was a lot of fun. Don't get me wrong, it's nice working for Master Müller. But the two couldn't be more different. I suppose Bill was more like Husef. How do you like Husef?"

Harry smiled. "He's very ... enthusiastic," Harry said, laughing. "But he's great. The whole team is great."

She gave him a searching look before turning her attention to the salad in front of her. "They're a nice group. I miss being in the dorms sometimes," she said. 

"Raven visits pretty often," Harry pointed out. "I don't think I've seen you there, though."

Lisa shook her head. "Master Müller frowns upon his assistants getting involved in the antics that go on there," she laughed. "And he's right. It's not very professional to go around playing Spin-the-Bottle with the acolytes. We're here to set an example, after all."

Harry bristled slightly at the unsubtle criticism of Raven. "I think it helps to build team solidarity," Harry said. 

"So explain the great exodus away from Husef's team," Lisa said.

He couldn't explain it. To him, Husef was a logical choice of the three.

"So much for team solidarity," she said. Her expression softened at Harry's hard glare. "Sorry," she said. "I can see you like them a great deal. I like them, too. I'm just saying, there are problems there. I'm not sure I would trust everyone so blindly, that's all."

He took her words of caution as a weak attempt at manipulation and sat quietly chewing his lamb. Mentally, he went through the members of his team. With the exception of Michel, he couldn't fault any of them. And Michel was only suspect because he was sleeping with the enemy, so to speak.

As they finished, Lisa accompanied him to the Library and gave him a list of names. She needed family trees going back four generations for all three surnames, with causes and location of death for each. Harry looked at the girl with exasperation. "This is going to take me all weekend!" he exclaimed. One name alone could take days. He couldn't be certain he'd finish before Monday.

"Sorry," she said. "On the bright side, you don't have lessons on the weekend," she consoled him.

But Harry did have lessons. Just not the official sort. He sighed and took the list.

"Check in tomorrow, okay. I'll be in the office until three."

Harry nodded, but resentfully refused to say goodbye to the woman as he disappeared into the Library's records room.

He emerged seven hours later with several parchments of notes on three generations of one family. He hurried on to Raven's flat for his evening Arithmancy lesson. After seven hours of research, he wasn't sure how much more his tired brain could handle, but he was determined to keep his objective in mind. 

Raven looked strangely relieved to see him when he entered his flat. Harry kicked off his shoes and then realised he didn't even have his textbook on him. "Shit," he sighed and leant against the door. "I need to go back to the dorms."

"Why?"

"Textbook," he said. "I've been in the Library all afternoon.”

Raven shook his head. "Don't sweat it, dude. Maybe you deserve a break tonight. You're doing pretty well," he said with a smile.

"Really?" Harry thought he might kiss the man in gratitude.

"Really," Raven said. "Want a beer?"

What he wanted was to get back to the dorms and find Icarus, but he accepted the man's offering and slumped onto the sofa next to him. 

"What are they having you do?"

Harry shrugged. "Work for Gringotts. Genealogies. Four generations for three different families. Huge families," Harry complained. "Every time I blink I see newsprint."

"By yourself?" Raven asked.

Harry nodded. "Lisa said the others are working on a different part of it," he related. "I suppose it's my job, right? Part of it, anyway."

Raven twisted his lips. "Maybe," he said. "Did they say anything about the team?"

"The usual stuff about how Husef can't keep his team members. And that I shouldn't trust any of you," Harry grinned and nudged the other man with his shoulder. "You really don't have to worry, you know. In a few weeks, I'll be untouchable, right?"

Raven frowned. "Theoretically," he said darkly. "Did you talk to Icarus?"

Harry nodded. He tried to repress the stupid grin that tried to stretch across his face. Failing that, he hid it behind his beer.

"So he told you about his mum?"

Harry looked over. "His mum?"

"He didn't tell you," Raven said. He didn't look happy by Harry's lack of knowledge.

"What's wrong with his mum?" Harry asked.

"Forget it," Raven sighed. He ran his pale hands over his face and frowned at the room.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

Raven shook his head. "Nothing." He offered a grim smile. "Drink up. We'll go see what's happening in the common room tonight."

Harry hurriedly finished his bottle of beer before apparating to the courtyard behind the dorms. Raven popped in seconds later. The two men entered the crowded common room together. Icarus stood blindfolded at the centre of the crowd, grinning as Chana ran her fingernails up his chest. Harry's eyes caught on the tight, rippled stomach. His insides twisted pleasantly at the sight. 

"Where've you been?" Niamh asked him.

"Library," Harry answered, moving to perch on the arm of the sofa.

Icarus guessed correctly and Chana came out of the circle, laughing. Meredith added another shot of what looked to be Vodka to a tall glass. Raven hurried forward to take her place and threw the game by kissing Icarus full on the mouth. 

Icarus' grin disappeared. "Hello, Raven," he said quietly, tugging down the blindfold. Something like wariness entered his expression. Raven tipped his head forward to speak into the man's ear. Icarus nodded and pulled the blindfold off, tossing it to Sven.

He followed Raven to the door, casting a small smile in Harry's direction. Raven bent low to whisper in Niamh's ear. Niamh frowned at him but nodded. Harry met her eyes as she stood. Icarus and Raven disappeared down the corridor toward Icarus' room. Niamh took his hand. "Have you eaten?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not really hungry," he said, glancing toward the corridor. "What's going on?"

She shrugged. "No idea. Come on."

Harry followed her out of the common room. "Your place or mine?" she asked with a smile. "Shall we see if you've got over your thing?"

Harry looked at her, confused. "You don't want to stay at the party?"

"Raven asked me to take care of you. Why do you need taking care of?"

"Dunno," Harry said.

Niamh frowned again and tugged Harry toward her room. Harry hadn't decided if he was ready to confront his fears before he was standing in front of her shrine. She closed the door behind him. "So?"

There was a distinct lack of panic, but Harry still had to force himself to stop staring at the names and to concentrate on the photos, of which there were lots. "Where did you get them all?" he breathed. Some of the photos he recognised from the Prophet, but others seemed to have been taken with a wholly different lens. The Prophet's photos always showed Severus looking stern and bitter. Dark, for lack of a better word. But it would appear there were other newspapers that wanted to put a kinder spin on the man. 

One in particular caught his eye. Harry knelt beside the bed to get a better look. He couldn't say when the photo was taken, but the man's expression was the one in Harry's memory. It was the same expression he wore when they were playing chess or sitting, chatting by the fire. There was an intensity about it that made him feel warm, but there was nothing hard about his face.

"There are other papers in the world, Harry," Niamh said, kneeling beside him.

"Hm. I should start reading the others then." His eyes moved to the sketches. "Did you do these?"

"Yeah. He has a great face, don't you think?" she said with a smile. "He's a lot of fun to draw."

She got up and went to her desk, pulling down a sketch book. Harry turned to sit on the floor. Niamh sat beside him and began leafing through. Countless sketches of Severus were punctuated by other familiar faces from the group. Harry stopped her at one of Icarus, with large wings spanning behind him. His face was tilted upward, his expression ecstatic, completely unaware that his wings were slowly disintegrating.

"That's amazing," Harry breathed.

Niamh grinned. "Thought you might like it," she said dryly. "I thought you were trying to distance yourself from him."

Harry shrugged. "It didn't work," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Two words, mate. Silencing spell." Harry widened his eyes. He could practically hear the blood rushing to his face. Niamh laughed. "So, are you still a virgin?"

Harry put his hand over his face. "Niamh," he groaned.

"I thought so. I hope you know what you're doing," she said. "I mean, you haven't got a lot of competition, given that you're the only two genuine poofs, but still. Icarus gets around, you know? It's part of his charm."

"It's not like that Niamh," Harry said irritably. "He's just taken Raven into his room. Do I look like I'm about to go mad with jealousy?"

She studied him. "No, but something tells me they're not in there to fuck," she said. "Raven seemed angry."

"It has something to do with the letter Icarus got yesterday. Do you know what it was about?"

Niamh shook her head. "Icarus didn't want to talk about it. He said he had it sorted."

"Yeah. He more or less told me the same thing. But he looked absolutely devastated when he was at Raven's last night," Harry said. He couldn't imagine the man fretting over something that was easily resolved. 

"I'll bet it's financial," Niamh said. "I know he's always struggling to pay tuition here. As we've not finished with the bid from last year, he's not been paid out."

Harry frowned. "He should have said something. If it's just money, I could have helped him."

"He has his pride, Harry. He'd never ask any of us for help. Not that the rest of us are in any position to help him." She sighed. "Anyway, something must have come up because he didn't seem concerned when I saw him last night."

Something small and powerful exploded in Harry's gut at the thought of the night before. A smile stretched across his face. He was a little mortified at the thought of the others hearing them, but not even that could stifle his joy.

Niamh leafed through the pages of her sketch book, and Harry leant in to look at the drawings. "You're really talented," he said.

"Cheers. It's just a hobby," she said dismissively. "So ... what are you going to do when He shows up?" She ran her fingers over a sketch of Severus in profile.

Harry's stomach dropped. "Dunno," he breathed. "I want to see him, but ..."

"If I were you, I'd learn as much as possible from Icarus, so you don't fumble with Him."

Harry looked over and blinked. After a moment he shook his head in disbelief. "You really have no idea how wrong that sounds, do you?"

Niamh furrowed her brow and looked at him. "Wrong."

"You're actually advocating that I use Icarus to make me better in bed for Severus," he paraphrased. "That doesn't strike you as being slightly immoral?"

"I doubt Icarus is going to mind being used," Niamh laughed.

Harry frowned at the sketch book. "I mind."

"This is what I mean, Harry. You take it all too seriously. You're going to get hurt," she foretold. "You like him, and that's fantastic. I think it's great that you're coming to terms with everything. Just keep in mind that he is a sexual creature. He will fuck other people. And you should, too."

The idea of fucking in general made Harry distinctly uncomfortable, let alone being intimate with several people. He honestly didn't feel bothered at the idea of Icarus with others, but he'd yet to have that tested. He'd only ever seen him with Raven, and that memory was one he'd revisited several times over the past few weeks. "Thanks for the advice," he said dryly.

"In one ear and out the other, right?" She shook her head, wearing a fond smile. "Idiot."

The door opened and Raven looked in, looking distinctly weary. "Harry, can I talk to Niamh a minute?"

Harry gave the man a dismayed look. He was about to be excluded again, he knew, and the idea irritated him. He was presumably part of the team, after all. "Is everything all right?"

Raven smiled, but it appeared flat. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Why don't you come by for dinner around six or so."

Harry gave the man a doubtful look, but decided not to press the matter. "Where's Icarus?" he asked instead. 

"I left him in his room," Raven said with thinly veiled anger. Harry and Niamh exchanged looks before Harry slipped past the other man. "See you," he mumbled to both of them.

The door closed behind him. He felt the charge of a silencing spell as he walked further down the corridor toward Icarus' room. He knocked quietly and waited for a long moment before going to check the Common Room. Icarus wasn't there either. Harry refused all attempts at getting him to join in the festivities and went to his own room to study.

Icarus looked drawn and tired when he joined Harry for breakfast the next morning. He held his head in his hands and pushed his cereals around the bowl half-heartedly. 

"You okay?" Harry asked.

Icarus nodded. "Headache," he said dismissively.

Harry tried to get information out of Müller's acolytes as to what they'd been tasked to research, but his attempt proved futile. Harry finished his tea and banished his plate before standing.

"I'm coming with you," Icarus said quietly, doing away with his own breakfast.

Harry gave him a quizzical look, but held off his questions until they were out of the kitchen. "Shouldn't you be in the tombs?" he asked. He knew the pressure was on to finish excavating the land the team had been awarded last year. Given what Niamh had told him the night before, Harry knew Icarus needed to commission payment even more than Husef.

"Raven asked me to help you," Icarus explained with a small smile.

The prospect of spending his day in the library had just got brighter. The two men parted to go and finish getting ready to face the day and met up again in the courtyard. Icarus held Harry's arm and the two men apparated to the Centre.

"I'm sure this isn't how you planned to spend your Saturday," Harry said apologetically as the two men sat poring over records.

Icarus shook his head. "I am happy to help if it means freeing up your time," he said. "You have more important things to do."

Harry gave the man a sidelong look. He was clearly upset about something, but Harry felt certain he wasn't going to tell him what it was. He frowned at the text in front of him and tried to concentrate on the work he'd been given.

Icarus worked far more quickly than Harry. As he searched through the records, he gave Harry tips on how to search more efficiently. Harry was able to exercise those tips and speed up his own progress. By two o'clock, the two men had managed to complete the task. Harry pulled the stack of notes together and gave Icarus a genuinely grateful smile.

"You're amazing. Thanks."

Light flickered into the man's eyes for a brief second before they dulled over again. "I have years of experience," he said dismissively. "You will get better at this."

Harry's frustration took over his sense of propriety. He stepped forward and pulled the man into an embrace. Icarus stiffened a moment before wrapping his arms around him. "I don't know what's going on," Harry whispered, "but I hate to see you like this." He pulled back and held to Icarus' face, forcing the man to look at him. "Are you and Raven fighting?"

Icarus lowered his eyes. "No," he lied.

"Icarus," Harry sighed.

"I would never do anything to hurt you. You know this, yes?"

Harry frowned and nodded suspiciously. "Is this about the other night? I know everyone thinks I'm this fragile, vulnerable thing, but I'm not going to break over a bout of snogging," he said irritably. "Is that why Raven was angry with you?"

Icarus laughed weakly and pressed his forehead against Harry's. "I do not think you are fragile," he said. "Everything that's happened since you got here, it's made you stronger, yes? You are no longer afraid of being gay. You do not panic at the sight of newspapers. I have helped you, yes?"

Harry raised his chin and pressed his lips against Icarus'. "I wasn't lying when I said I don't know what I would do without you," he said, meeting the man's eyes.

Icarus pulled him closer and buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck. "Come on," he said, breaking away after a long moment. "Let's get this turned in. We have to catch up on your Ancient Runes studies."

Harry grinned at the man's flirtatious smile and gathered his things. When they arrived back at the bank, Icarus stopped in the stairwell leading up to Lisa's office. "I will wait here for you," he said.

Harry continued on his own, passing Raven's office which was closed to come to where the light spilled in through an open door further on. He tapped lightly on the door to get Lisa's attention before coming forward to deposit a thick file on her desk. She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. "You're finished?" she said in disbelief.

Harry nodded. 

"But you had help," she guessed aloud.

Harry might have denied it, but she would notice the notes written in two different hands, so it seemed pointless. "Yeah. I had help."

She flipped through the stack of parchment. "Icarus," she said, coming to his notes.

Harry smiled. "Is that against the rules?" he asked wryly.

"Of course not," she said distractedly. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry bade the woman goodbye and returned the way he came. He stopped and turned at the sound of a voice calling his name. Master Winter stood at the opposite end of the corridor. "A word, please," she said.

Harry sighed and turned to walk toward her. Before he reached her, she began walking up the stairs. Irritated, he followed. He found her in her office and peeked his head in. She gave him a tight smile.

"Close the door," she instructed him, leaning back against a glass desk. Harry stepped in and shut the door behind him before leaning against it. "How are you?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, lips curling into an amused smirk. "Fine, thanks."

"I've been impressed at how quickly you're managing to catch up," she said, eyes boring into him like ice picks. 

"My team has given me a lot of help," Harry said.

She smiled. "Well, they wouldn't lose you," she said. "Husef can't afford to lose any of you, but you in particular. I've heard you have hidden talents."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know about that," he said. "But I'll be happy if I can contribute."

"I know they're trying to push you through your acolyte training before the end of term," she said.

Harry blinked. "How do you know about that?" he asked.

She gave a light, tinkling laugh. "I have my sources. Husef's secrets rarely remain secret for long," she said. 

"Did Severus tell you?" Harry asked.

"Severus? Gods, no. That you would ask at all tells me you don't know him half as well as is rumoured," she said.

Harry nodded, trying not to betray his irritation. "I would have been surprised, but there aren't a lot of others who knew," he said. He thought perhaps Marchese's discretion wasn't as solid as they thought. "If you're going to try and convince me away from Husef, you should know that it won't work," Harry said.

She smiled and shook her head. "I didn't call you here to convince you away," she said. "I don't believe I could offer anything that would interest you, and Husef is a good friend of mine. He needs you more than I do."

"Does that mean you'll leave Michel alone?" Harry challenged.

Her smile grew wicked. "What makes you think I'm interested in Michel?"

Harry gave her a bland look. She found his impertinence amusing. "I've called you here to offer you some friendly advice. You should be very careful about who you choose to confide in. This is a cutthroat business, Harry, and everyone has their price."

Harry frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'll let you ruminate on it and draw your own conclusions," she said.

"Right. So I shouldn't trust anyone. Anything else?" he said irritably. He should probably watch his tone as this woman was, after all, his teacher. He was fed up with intrigue. If she really wanted to help him, she would be clearer with her warnings. As it was, she was probably just trying to create discord. Despite her insistence that she didn't want to harm Husef or his team, Harry knew it would only benefit her were he to suddenly start seeing enemies among the members of his own team. He wasn't going to rise to that provocation. 

"One other thing," Master Winter told him. "It would be better if you didn't wander around alone."

"Why?"

"It's a dangerous place. Anything might happen," she said vaguely. "I would hate to see you meet the same fate as your predecessor."

"That sounds like a threat," Harry said coldly.

She snorted. "I am not the threat. I made a promise to an old friend to look out for you, and I'm making good on that promise. As I feel quite certain your team have told you nothing out of fear of losing you, I thought a little warning might be in order."

"If you're trying to scare me – "

She sighed. "My, you are a suspicious young man, aren't you? I know enough about Gryffindors to realise that fear will never be a limiting factor, Harry. Believe it or not, I would like to see you succeed."

"So if I can't trust anyone, how am I meant to know who it's safe to be alone with?" Harry asked impudently.

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth pressed into a thin line. "First, Mr Potter, I don't appreciate your tone. If I wanted you out of here, you can be sure I wouldn't stop at a harmless little article. Second, I didn't tell you to trust no one. Just keep in mind that personal ambitions sometimes trump affection. Stay close to your team members; they wouldn't do anything to deliberately hurt you."

Harry felt appropriately cowed at her tone. He opened his mouth to apologise, but it hung open mutely as his brain caught up with her words of caution and branched out to connect with other conversations he'd had over the past few days. He felt himself go cold with realisation. His eyes met Master Winter's. He saw pity there.

He slumped against her door and put his hand against his forehead, finger tracing absently at the scar there. "What was his price?" he asked breathlessly.

"Not nearly enough to pay off his conscience," she said quietly. "I'm counting on your discretion, Mr Potter. Please don't let me keep you."

It was a clear dismissal, but Harry's feet refused to move for a long moment. Betrayal and something significantly more painful twisted in his chest. He felt like he might sick up. Or cry. He did neither. Eventually his body straightened stiffly, and he fled the woman's office. He moved along the corridor without thinking. His body knew where it was going even as his mind floated, disconnected, bouncing along the clues that led to what Harry now recognised as the logical conclusion.

Icarus had sold him out. The man's desperate insistence that he would protect Harry now made perfect sense. The way he'd begged for confirmation that all that had happened to Harry had only done him good. Harry now wondered just how many weapons Icarus had sold to the other teams to be used against him. 

What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, the old adage went. Harry didn't feel particularly strong as his feet carried him down a flight of steps. He thought he might be finished off with a disarming spell just then. He froze at the sound of Icarus' angry shouting.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

"I told you, Icarus. He left. How the hell should I know where he went?" 

Harry stood, unable to decide what he wanted to do. He felt like running. He wanted to scream until there were no feelings left.

"If something's happened to him, Lisa – " 

"I'm here," Harry said, his voice remarkably steady. 

Icarus came out of the girl's office, his face slack with relief. "Where have you been?"

Harry looked at the man, feeling strangely devoid of anger. He felt only pain, throbbing hotly from within a bubble of cold resignation. He took a deep breath to clear space in his chest to say, "I went up to see if Husef was in his office. I had a question for him." He forced a small smile to his face. "Sorry to worry you."

Icarus looked at him a long moment before snorting. "Just don't disappear again," he said with an exasperated smile.

Harry couldn't bring himself to smile back or to look at the man. He followed Icarus down to the dorms, torn between wanting to confront the other man and not wanting to have his suspicions confirmed. Some desperate part of him wanted to think that Winter's warning was all part of the great game. He reasoned that this might be just another ploy to create instability in one team to better the chances in her own. It was hardly a secret that Harry and Icarus were close. Making Harry believe that Icarus had deceived him would be a good way to get Harry to go home.

If he truly believed that, he'd confront the man. He'd ask him outright if what Winter had told him was true. But all he did know – Icarus' desperation upon reading the letter from home, his disconsolate expression when Harry saw him at Raven's, followed by his assertion that all had been sorted out – pointed to his guilt. Harry recalled the seemingly random reassurances from Icarus that he'd take care of Harry. He'd keep Harry safe. At the time, it fed Harry's affection toward the man, but now it smacked of conscience.

Icarus betrayed him. Raven knew about it. Harry wondered now if Niamh was told last night. They would all know that if Harry found out, there was a good chance he'd go, and so they said nothing. The game was greater than the friendships forged.

"You are quiet," Icarus said, looking at him worriedly.

"I feel a little sick," Harry said quite honestly.

"Sick how?" Icarus stopped him, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders and examining him.

"What are you so worried about?" Harry asked him, his voice sounding cold and even.

The corner of Icarus' mouth quirked up. "Should I not be worried if you are sick?"

"You went mad at Lisa when you couldn't find me. Why?"

"Bad things happen, Harry."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Well, that was true last week too, wasn't it? Nothing's changed, has it, Icarus?" 

Icarus met his eyes. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "What's the matter?" he asked cautiously.

"You tell me."

"Who did you speak to?" Icarus asked barely above a whisper.

Harry's chest tightened. His throat squeezed tightly, and his eyes prickled with angry tears. He blinked them back and shook his head. "I can't talk to you right now," he breathed and pulled away from the man to go into the dorms. He locked himself in his room and warded the door for good measure.

As he lay in his bed, he wondered how many of his secrets Icarus had told. He wondered if the man had known the other teams were going to set him up and made sure Harry was perfectly posed so as to be recognisable on the photo. He wondered if all the times he'd come to comfort Harry during his breakdowns, he was merely gathering intelligence to sell to the highest bidder. 

Did his deception start with Harry? Or was Icarus to blame for the distinct lack of people on Husef's team? Did it stop at information, or could Icarus have gone so far as to compel his team members to enter the tombs and cast a spell they would otherwise know better than to cast? Winter had told him he was safe amongst his team members, but how could she be sure of that? 

Harry stared up at his ceiling and watched the shadows of early evening darken progressively. Raven was expecting him for dinner. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to see Raven either. Although he was clearly unhappy with what Icarus had done, he was accomplice to it. He would have happily let Harry carry on falling for the man, completely ignorant of what he was really like. After all, if Harry were smitten, he'd be reticent to leave. There would be more bodies to work the tombs and more money for all.

Harry's anger continued to simmer until it filled him completely. He'd been an idiot to come here. An idiot to stay once he knew what the people here were like. Were Malika and Zhan aware of the spy in their midst? Harry could imagine no one would tell Husef because they needed Icarus just as much as they needed Harry. Given Icarus' experience, they probably needed him more.

The thought of quitting annoyed him. He'd been working so hard to be able to stay. He'd wanted to be useful to the team, to use whatever talents he had to give them a competitive edge. He enjoyed curse-breaking – the whole process of it. He'd been looking forward to learning more about it, to moving up in the ranks. Next year, he would have started as a second year, finally able to go into the tombs, to get a taste of what curse-breaking was really like.

But how could he stay now? He'd never be able to trust any of them again. While he liked Zhan and Malika, he didn't have the same sort of rapport with them as he'd had with the others. He'd considered them his friends. He'd begun to consider Icarus as a bit more than a friend.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to divorce himself from the torrent of emotion raging inside him. Raven was angry. He latched onto this fact. He hadn't seen Niamh since she'd spoken to Raven. It's possible she either didn't know, or intended to tell him as soon as she saw him. Desperate as it was, Harry clung to this. He couldn't let himself believe that they were all a bunch of lying bastards.

Harry sat and jumped off his bed. He put his shoes on and grabbed a jacket. He left his bag as he had no intention of studying tonight. He'd go and confront Raven and decide what to do after that meeting. He opened his door and kept his eyes focussed downward as he made his way to the courtyard.

Raven greeted him with a smile that Harry didn't return. "Did you get the work for Müller done?" he asked.

"Winter knows about what we're planning," Harry said, ignoring Raven's question.

Raven's smile disappeared. "I know. Müller does, too."

"Do you know how they found out?" Harry asked quietly.

Raven looked at him and sighed. "Do you want a beer?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and clenched his jaw angrily. Raven gave him a wary look before summoning two beers and urging Harry onto the sofa. "Winter told you, didn't she?"

"Why didn't you?"

Raven tucked his lock of hair behind his ear and stared forward a long moment. "He's my best friend, Harry."

"He betrayed you as much as me," Harry seethed. "He betrayed the whole team."

"Did he?" Raven asked. "He kept the most important secret to himself. They know we're trying to push you through, but they don't know how well you did," Raven argued.

"How do you know? And what difference does it make?"

"I know because Icarus told me. And I trust him. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Harry."

Harry was struck dumb by just how profoundly wrong the man's declaration was. "Are you fucking joking?"

Raven frowned at him. "Do you really care that the other teams know we're trying to push you through?" he said pointedly. 

"That is so not the point," Harry shouted. "I care that the other teams know about my issue with seeing my name in the paper. _He_ knew how it would affect me, but I'm pretty sure he let that information slip."

"I don't know about that," Raven said. "But I know that he did everything he could to help get you through it."

"Because he felt guilty," Harry insisted.

"Maybe. But you're better off now than you were, right?"

Harry pressed his lips together, unable to argue on that point. He took a drink from the beer because it was there and he couldn't think of anything to say. 

"He wouldn't have done it if he weren't desperate," Raven said quietly. "His mum got laid off from her job. She wasn't going to be able to pay for the term. We've not finished excavating the bid we got last year, and Icarus is broke, Harry. He'd have had to quit, one term away from finishing."

Harry refused to feel sympathetic toward the man's plight. Nothing could make him betray someone he cared about. "That's not an excuse," Harry growled. "I'd have helped him if he'd asked."

Raven sighed. "I know. I tried to tell him." The man slumped into the corner of the sofa. He stared into his beer bottle. "He's proud, Harry. And he likes you. He didn't want to put a debt between you."

"Fuck that. If he liked me at all, he wouldn't have done this," Harry insisted. "All of this is just a game to you. Seduce the unstable acolyte so he has a reason to stay, right?"

Raven's eyes flashed angrily. "Dude, is that what you really think?"

"What do you expect me to think?"

Raven shook his head. "First of all, I urge my team members not to get involved. It might work initially to keep an acolyte from fleeing, but it's not a very good security plan for the future – someone invariably gets hurt," he said, gesturing to Harry as though to say, exhibit A. "And Icarus might trade a few harmless secrets to get money, but he'd never fuck with your head, Harry. He doesn't work like that. He may be desperate, but there isn't a cruel bone in his body."

"You say the secret is harmless, but you were angry with him so it can't be that harmless. Not to mention the fact that all of you suddenly panic whenever I go off on my own," Harry argued, recalling again Winter's warning to him.

"That has nothing to do with the information Icarus gave," Raven said. "I was angry with him because he betrayed the team. The others would have worked it out anyway eventually, but I'd hoped to have another week or so to study before they started piling you with so much work you wouldn't be able to do anything else. Icarus knew that's what would happen and already planned to help you with whatever came. Because that's his game. He gives the secrets when he knows he can offset the consequences."

Harry frowned. "He said you told him to help."

Raven shrugged. "I was going to put Niamh with you so that Icarus could work in the tombs. He volunteered to help you. It's his way of doing penance, Harry."

"It still doesn't explain why everyone's suddenly so paranoid. Even Winter warned me not to be alone," Harry said. 

Raven snorted. "That's interesting," he said. "But not surprising, I guess. Bad things happen in our team, Harry. We've had a spell of bad luck since Müller got here. It's not a secret that Müller hates Husef."

"Müller and Icarus arrived the same year, right?" Harry pointed out irritably.

Raven gave him an annoyed look. "Look, Harry, I know you don't know any of us very well, but I know Icarus. He fucked up and you're right to be angry with him, but he's essentially a good person and dedicated to the team. He might play the odds a bit when he's forced to, but only if he knows he can control the outcome. Müller, on the other hand, is a dodgy bastard."

"So, you're protecting me from Müller. Why now?"

"Because there isn't time for him to try and buy you away. If he's going to keep you from joining Husef officially, he'll need to act quickly. It was the same with Ellis."

"You think he killed Ellis?"

Raven shook his head. "I don't know. We have no proof. We were going to do with Ellis what we trying to do with you. Get him through as quickly as possible to be able to fill the gaps. Ellis told Meredith – who has no qualms about trading sex for information. Two weeks later, Ellis was dead." Raven frowned at Harry. "Before you start, I don't think Müller's team are particularly corrupt. No more than what is necessary for the game. If it's Müller, he's acting alone."

"But Ellis is one person. Niamh told me about the others. Apart from one who got cursed, it didn't sound like bad luck."

"Well, Erika we lost to Winter. That was just part of the game. Ling got caught with a load of artefacts in her room. She admitted to taking them, but couldn't remember why she'd done it. If you ask me, she was confounded. In Niamh's group, Jordan got sick from his term project. But he'd already worked out what curse was on it, so it doesn't make sense that he'd touch it. Husef has gone to the Goblins to insist they investigate, but Müller's thick with the Goblins. He's constantly trying to discredit Husef with them and, according to Husef, it's working."

Harry's brow creased with concern as he sat processing the information. He'd had no particular feelings about Müller, apart from a slight twinge of sympathy in regards to his neurosis. He didn't seem especially dark or corrupt. But if what Raven was saying was true, then Icarus' deception was that much worse. 

"And Icarus still told him," Harry said, getting back on topic. 

"He didn't, actually. He told Winter, who, I imagine told her assistants. Elliot is dating Lisa. Word travels fast."

"That's what he told you."

"He wouldn't lie to me, Harry. But he'd have known that Müller would find out eventually. In his mind, he's just speeding up the inevitable. We'd have gone through all of this once Müller worked out that you can't be bought."

"It's not like the danger goes away when I become a first year, does it?"

"Apprentices are different. The Goblins don't pay much attention to acolytes as so few are expected to stay past a year. The contract for acolytes is with the school. The contract for apprentices is with the bank itself. They have to pay damages to the families if something happens to apprentices, so they're far more likely to investigate. Not to mention that as a first year, you won't have much to do with the other team leaders outside of class. They can't pull you into their projects. I won't say you're untouchable as an apprentice, but you might not be worth the trouble anymore."

Raven sat up and put his arm around Harry's shoulder. Harry thought to pull away, but couldn't summon the energy required to do so. "I'm sorry, Harry," Raven said. 

"I trusted him," Harry said dully.

"He's a good guy. I know it's hard to see that now," Raven said, pulling Harry closer. "For you, this is all something you're doing because you have nothing better to do. For him, it's bigger than that. It's a way for him to be able to take care of his family. You can trust he'd never do anything to deliberately hurt you, but you have to understand that he can't afford to fail."

"There had to be other options," Harry said miserably. "Surely Husef would have helped him. Husef needs him, right?"

"Icarus asked him for an advance on what we expect to get on the last bid. Husef said he couldn't advance money he didn't have. He's a bit stretched at the moment because we're having issues with the last set of tombs. He may have to pay the Goblins out of his own pocket if we can't work through it," Raven told him.

"Did he at least get enough to pay for next term?" Harry asked.

Raven shrugged. "I think he's banking on the last bid getting paid off before he has to worry about it. I'm going to try and get my parents to help, but they're not exactly charitable people," Raven said with a grim smile. "Niamh's going to try and help, too."

"Does she know?"

"She knows he's struggling, but I didn't tell her what he's done. I know you're angry with him, Harry, but I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone why. You certainly don't owe him any favours, but he needs this."

Harry nodded, a sliver of empathy for the man's situation shooting through him. He didn't know if he could forgive Icarus for what he'd done, but his anger has waned to a dull ache. It helped somewhat to know that Icarus had betrayed him, in part, for his family. It took the sting out. And as Raven had said, it was a meaningless secret to begin with.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly," Harry muttered. His stomach groaned in protest.

Raven laughed. "I'll make us something to eat," he said, pressing a kiss to the side of Harry's head. The both twisted around when the door opened.

Icarus came in looking uncharacteristically pale and worried. At the sight of Harry, he swore an oath in Greek and covered his face with his hands.

"He's here," Raven said. "You hungry?"

Harry's heart thundered in his chest. He glared at the ground. He really wasn't ready to forgive the man. "I'll go," he decided, standing.

"No, you won't," Raven said, pushing him back to the sofa.

"I'll go. I only came to see if he was here," Icarus said.

"You're not going either," Raven said firmly. "I'm going to cook. You're going to apologise. He's going to listen to what you have to say. I'll tie you both up if I have to."

Harry looked up at the man and shook his head. "I can't talk to him right now," he insisted.

"I didn't ask you to talk," Raven said. "Just listen to him."

Raven disappeared into the small kitchen. The tense silence was broken by the occasional clang of pans and the rhythmic chopping of a knife on a cutting board. Harry hazarded a glance at the other man who loitered cautiously by the front door. He turned away and sneered at the sight of a contrite expression.

"My mother lost her job," Icarus said in a quiet voice. "She was not going to be able to make the final payment of the term."

"You should have told me," Harry said coldly.

Icarus was quiet for a long moment before sighing. "I didn't want you to pity me."

Harry laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. "You were my friend, Icarus. Friends help one another. Friends don't sell one another out for fear of damaged pride!" Harry said, his voice growing in volume with every word spoken.

"I didn't sell you out," Icarus insisted. "It was a piece of worthless information that anyone who was paying attention would have worked out anyway."

"So it was the only time?" Harry asked acidly. He glared at the man, silently daring him to lie.

"No," Icarus said and then swallowed. "I told Müller about your reaction to newspapers." He lowered his eyes. "I wouldn't have done it if I did not know I could help you get passed it, Harry. It was an opportunity to help you get stronger. I wanted to help you."

"Bollocks! You wanted money."

"I _needed_ money," the man insisted, raising his voice. "You are lucky not to know what that is like."

"Lucky?" Harry choked. "Yeah, I'm lucky that everyone who loves me dies and leaves me their cash. Lucky, lucky me."

Icarus shook his head dumbly before sliding down the door to sit with his knees to his chest. "I'm sorry. I did not mean it like this."

"And the photo?"

Icarus shook his head. "I had nothing to do with that. I know you do not believe me, but I saw how it affected you and knew it as an opportunity to help both of us."

"And a convenient opportunity to get me in bed." Icarus' eyes widened, his mouth opened dumbly. Harry pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead hard against them. "I feel like such a fucking idiot."

"I have never done anything you didn't want me to do. I would never use you like that," Icarus said breathlessly.

"I trusted you. You let me believe I could trust you."

"Wow. You two suck at this," Raven said in an exasperated tone. "Icarus, stop looming near the door and come and sit down."

Harry refused to look up from his knees. His chest felt like it might cave in, and he could scarcely breathe past the tight feeling in his throat. The sofa dipped beside him, and he didn't want to know if it was Icarus or Raven who'd sat down. He was afraid to look.

"Harry, come on. Look at me," Raven said quietly.

From the proximity of the voice, Harry surmised that it was Raven's hand on his shoulder. Harry steeled himself and looked up at the man he decided was probably more friend than enemy. "You're not angry because he told Winter that you're being rushed through your first year," Raven said. "You're angry because he spilled the beans about your crazy thing. Which is fair enough. You're angry about that because you dig him, and now you don't know if you can trust him at all."

Harry glared at the man, damning the blush that rose to his cheeks. It was a fair summation of the heart of his anger. Raven gave a satisfied nod before turning to Icarus who sat at his other side in a similar pose to Harry's.

"Icarus, you're an idiot. If you'd have kept your distance like I told you to, you'd not have had any problems asking him for a loan. But you didn't fucking listen to me. And now you're both heartbroken and miserable. I'm not going to tell you off for the crazy thing because it was pretty fucking clever. But Harry's not been in the game long enough to appreciate strategy, so I think you're kind of fucked, dude."

Icarus snorted mirthlessly. Harry frowned. "How was betraying me clever, exactly?" he said indignantly.

"If you're the one giving the other team ammunition, Harry, you know what to defend against, right?"

Icarus sighed. "It made Müller think you were an easy target," he said wearily. "I expected him to keep using it to try and get rid of you. Of course, you scared the hell out of his team, so it didn't work quite as I thought. The result was the same. You have overcome this weakness."

Thursiaz. Catharsis. Harry stared at the floor and tried not to admit to himself that the plan had worked quite well, all things considered. He tried to tell himself that the end did not justify the means. Icarus had taken his secrets and exploited them for personal gain.

Out of desperation. Because he didn't want Harry to think bad about him. "What do you mean if he'd kept his distance?" Harry asked quietly.

"It's not that hard to figure out, dude," Raven said, standing and walking back into the kitchen.

"Do you hate me?"

Harry looked down at his toes. "I want to hate you," he said honestly. "What will you do next term?"

"I am hoping the bid will pay enough to get by," Icarus answered.

"And if it doesn't?"

Icarus laughed. "Prostitution?"

Harry's head snapped over to glare at the man. "That's not funny, Icarus."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm very sorry. I swear if I thought the information would hurt you, I'd not have given it."

Harry believed him. He could tell by the man's wretched expression that his contrition was sincere. "I'll give you the money," he said quietly.

"No," Icarus said.

"Don't be an idiot. You can pay me back when the bid pays out, or not. I don't really care. I've been lucky enough to inherit the fortunes of two wealthy wizarding families. I also get a pension from the Ministry and dividends from a company I invested in years ago, when two of my friends needed help. I may not have much else, but I have money." 

"I can't take it from you. Not after what I've done."

Harry snorted bitterly. "You'll accept money to sell me out, but not to stay loyal?"

Icarus cringed visibly. Harry suddenly hated himself for saying it. "Sorry," he said, covering is face with his hands. "I didn't mean that."

"You did," Icarus croaked.

"Maybe," Harry conceded.

"You do not really think I did what I did to get you into bed, do you?"

Harry's stomach twisted sickeningly. "I suppose you were trying to help me get over my ... gay thing, right?"

Icarus frowned at him. "No ... Well, yes, but ..."

"It's okay. You don't need to explain. Like you said, I'm stronger now. If you have some clever cure for gullibility, I'm all ears," Harry said with a mirthless laugh. Although he thought after today, he might be one step closer to cynical already. He wondered vaguely if this is what Severus would call growing up. 

"It is hard to fake sexual attraction," Icarus pointed out irritably. "I was not manipulating you, Harry. I was not pretending," he insisted. "I wanted you to accept that you are gay because you were unhappy, and because it's absurd to be unhappy about desiring one group of people over another."

"Icarus," Harry sighed, "I know you weren't faking it. You obviously enjoyed yourself. I enjoyed myself. It's fine. And I'm getting used to the idea. Really, if you think about it, I owe you thousands of galleons worth of therapy bills. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I'm not even angry anymore."

He wasn't. He was weary and heartsick, but not angry. His chest felt clearer, and he could breathe without difficulty. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough to be going on with.

"Are you leaving?" Icarus asked, not looking at him.

He might have done if he had anywhere to go. Severus would only accuse him of running away again, and frankly, he'd be right. At least here, he had a clear purpose. If he left now, he'd only be proving Niamh's point that he wasn't strong enough to withstand a bit of heartache. Nothing would ever be the same again between him and Icarus, but perhaps that was for the best. He was growing too attached anyway, and everyone seemed to agree that was bad for the team.

"I'll stay if you accept the money," Harry said. 

Icarus clenched his jaw and stared at him. There was something of a plea in his expression that Harry didn't want to see. The pain Harry felt was echoed in Icarus' eyes. Harry looked away to stare straight ahead at nothing in particular. "I'll pay you back," Icarus said on a breath.

Harry nodded and stood from the sofa. Icarus followed him up and pulled him into a tight embrace. Harry thought he could feel something crack inside him. His breath expelled in a harsh puff. 

"Forgive me," Icarus breathed. Harry remembered him saying the same thing on the night he betrayed him. 

He patted Icarus stiffly on the back. "No worries, mate," he rasped, feeling numb.

Over the next two weeks, when he wasn't studying for his exams, he was doing a load of research work that Raven and Zhan gave to him to keep him from having to accept work from Müller. After the third time the man tried to off load work onto him, Müller grew agitated. Harry told him that if he had any questions about the work he was doing, he should go and see Husef.

Everywhere he went, he was shadowed by a member of his team. Most of the time it was either Niamh or Michel, who was not very kindly disposed to him after learning that he'd be advancing. It was often a relief when Michel was chosen as Michel tended to leave him alone to go and do his own work. Raven spent every evening drilling him hard on Arithmancy problems, and Icarus spent every lunch time preparing him for his final exam in Ancient Runes. When they were together, they spoke like friends and laughed like friends. Harry reasoned that if he pretended long enough, he might not have to pretend anymore.

The other team members didn’t question the sudden lack of intimacy. Once Harry's true purpose was common knowledge, they worked it out that it had all been a game. Only Niamh knew there was something off. When she confronted Harry, he shrugged and told her that he'd taken her advice. Strangely, she didn't seem at all pleased by that.

At the end of the two weeks, Harry thought if he spent another night looking at books, he'd go mad. He had one week left before he'd sit his exams. While it sounded like a comparatively short time, Harry wasn't sure he'd make it through.

He spent Saturday morning with Icarus, being quizzed on his knowledge of Symbology. Lunch was spent in Raven's office, and the afternoon was spent with Niamh, who did her own work while Harry put the finishing touches on his project essay. When he'd finally finished, Niamh grinned at him. "Tonight, we celebrate," she insisted.

Harry, for once, wasn't of a mind to argue. When Niamh announced the news to the wider group, they all determined that they were happy to join in. When an impromptu detection game was started, Harry grabbed a beer and sat back to watch the show. He tried to absorb some of the festive mood around him, but he seemed to have grown immune to happiness. He laughed when he was supposed to laugh and drank to still a restless energy inside him. He did not look at Icarus, who he knew was sitting less than two feet behind him. 

He heaved a sigh and stood when the group decided it was his turn. The thought of going in there no longer made him feel squeamish. Part of that was down to Icarus, but part of it was also due to the fact that his tolerance to the general sexually charged atmosphere was higher. It seemed absurd now to think that he would once panic at the sight of a man on his knees before him. As though the tableau itself would make him gay.

Harry put the blindfold on and waited. He could feel the disturbance that signalled another body in the buffering field. Harry called on his other senses to try and get an idea of who it might be. The person circled him a long time before coming to rest behind him. A tickling breath on his neck sent a shiver through him. He smiled and concentrated on feeling the person's energy. Teeth scraped his neck and there was a tickle of long hair as the person drew back, helping Harry to identify that person as female. 

Fingers pinched his bum. Fingernails dragged lightly under his t-shirt. A nibble to his earlobe. Harry took a deep breath and suddenly the answer became clear from the light scent of vanilla. "Astrid," he guessed. She kissed him on the cheek. "Well done."

He recognised the next person as soon as he entered the field. As Icarus knew he would. Harry frowned. His frantic heart begged him to say his name before he could touch him. His body tingled in anticipation, pleading to let it go in the name of the game. Icarus' hand fell over his chest, feeling the panicked thudding against it. Harry felt breath on his neck a second before the tip of the man's nose dragged up toward Harry's ear. Teeth closed over the lobe.

"Icarus," Harry said in a tight voice. The man's defeated sigh fell over his neck.

He felt he might scream when the man left the field. They'd had an unspoken arrangement. There would be careful distance. They would maintain a working relationship and speak civilly to one another. They would pretend to be all right. By coming into the circle, Icarus breached that agreement. By not naming him immediately, Harry let it happen.

It was all he could do to stand waiting for the next body. The time seemed to drag on interminably. Suddenly, he longed for the safety of his room. He decided after this, he would call an end to the celebration.

A body entered and Harry reflexively broadened his senses. He still couldn't identify anyone but Icarus in this way, but he needed to get started on trying to match the energy to the person. The person in with him now seemed vaguely familiar. He felt if he could just concentrate a bit more, he'd reach the answer. It was on the edge of his mind, like a distant dream. 

A hand came up and touched his face, fingers curling around behind his ear, thumb stroking his jaw. Harry took a deep breath. His heart stopped as his senses were filled with a scent he still dreamed about. Potions and lavender.

"Severus?" he choked in disbelief. He reached up to pull the blindfold down. His eyes welled up at the sight of the man staring down with a familiar intensity. 

The corner of Severus' mouth curled up. 

Harry threw his arms around the man and inhaled the smell of home.


	10. Chapter Ten

Harry stood for a long moment, nose buried in the crook of Severus neck as he inhaled safety and comfort, stability and ... Home. There was no other word for it.

Severus stood rigid in his arms. After a moment a hand came to pat his back awkwardly. Harry gradually became aware that they were stood in the centre of a crowded room and all eyes were trained on this reunion. With one more deep breath, he pulled away and grinned at the man. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm giving a seminar at the Centre Monday and Tuesday. I thought I would surprise you," he said with a very small smile that made Harry's heart swell. He knew, if they were alone, that smile would grow, unrestrained by propriety.

"Mission accomplished," Harry laughed. His eyes scanned the crowd and fell on Niamh, who was glaring hard around the room in warning. Several people wore teasing smiles. Niamh's eyes met his and Harry thought he could see something like panic in them. Raven stood by the door, grinning at him. Icarus had left, but Harry thought that could only be a good thing. Suddenly, he wondered at which point Severus had come in. The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

As the two men stepped out of the buffering spell, the room was uncharacteristically quiet. Meredith sat grinning up at him. "I thought we'd have you with that last one, Harry," she said, holding a full glass of whisky.

"Better luck next time," Harry said, beaming. "Everyone, this is Severus Snape," he said. He glanced up, "I'll skip the introductions, yeah?"

It had been a long time since he'd been with Severus in public place. Apart from the lab, the two men never spent much time in crowds. It was at once amusing and strangely nerve-wracking to see the man's forbidding posture. His lip gently curved in a sneer of general disdain. His eyes glittered menacingly. It was the first time in a long time that Harry had encountered "Professor Snape".

"You've met Raven then," Harry said as the two made their way to the door.

"Mr Kennedy was kind enough to show me here," Severus said in a cold, dark voice.

"I can't believe you got it right," Raven said.

Harry laughed and shrugged. "I'm just that good," he joked. He turned to Niamh, who looked distinctly green. "This is Niamh, a second year apprentice on our team."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," she said breathlessly. She stuck her hand out stiffly. Severus took it.

"She's a fan of your work," Harry added.

Her eyes flickered to Harry with a tiny spark of panic.

"My work," Severus drawled quietly. "Which work would that be?"

"My thesis at school was on practical uses for dark magic," she said, without skipping a beat. "The articles you wrote for _Sorcery Today_ and _The Elemental_ inspired the thesis, sir."

Harry's eyes widened slightly at her recovery. He had no idea if she was telling the truth. He looked over at Severus who he could tell was pleased, but he wasn't sure anyone else would see anything other than disinterest.

"I'd be interested in reading your thesis, Miss?"

"Larousse," she said, her face flushing.

"Miss Larousse."

"I'd introduce you to the others on the team, but ..."

"I believe your young man fled in terror at the sight of me," Severus said, managing to look both smug and menacing at once.

Harry's face heated. He rolled his eyes. "He's not my young man," he said. He looked at Raven whose smile had dwindled. "Come on, I'll show you my room," Harry said, pulling Severus out of the crowd and across the hall. He pushed into his room and spread his arms demonstratively. "Home," he declared, knowing it was anything but.

"Cosy," Severus said. 

Harry pushed the door shut behind them and looked at the man. "I can't believe you're here," he said.

"I'm sorry to pull you away from your party."

Harry shook his head. "I'd just decided to leave it anyway just before you stepped in."

"I see you've grown more at ease with their little games," Severus said stiffly.

Harry gave the man a bland look. "That one's relatively tame, and pretty good practice."

"Practice ... for being manhandled," Severus drawled.

Harry snorted. "For identifying people by their magic."

"You identified me by my magic?" The man's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

Harry shook his head and blushed. "Your smell," he admitted sheepishly.

"Charming," Severus said, frowning.

"You have a distinctive smell," Harry said. "I like it. It reminds me of... of home." He laughed. "I can't believe you agreed to play along with the game."

"I was hardly given a choice. Several dozen drunken brats pushed me toward you," he complained.

Harry grinned at the mental image. Severus glared at him. "I admit it was an unpleasant surprise to come in to see some young man chewing your ear," Severus said stiffly, his hand came out to tug at the ear in question.

Harry's smile faded. A small spark of anger reigniting in his chest. "It's just the game. They do it to distract you," he lied, knowing that it was an altogether different sort of game that Icarus had played. 

"I daresay he regretted it the moment he saw me." Without the audience, Severus unleashed the full power of his smile.

"What did you do? Give him your best Professor Snape glare?" Harry chided.

"I might have done," Severus said, stepping forward to pull Harry into a proper embrace. 

Harry melted against the man with a sigh that expelled all the worry and tension of the last few months. He leant his head on Severus shoulder. "I'm so happy you're here," he said.

"Have you eaten?"

"Yeah. But I'm happy to join you if you're hungry," Harry said pulling his head back to see the man.

"Have you got your invisibility cloak here?"

Harry frowned and nodded. "Why?"

"I wouldn't want to rouse local suspicions by being seen smuggling beautiful young men to my hotel room."

Harry tried to quell a stirring of nervousness at the idea of going to Severus' hotel room. It was rather ridiculous, considering he used to spend hours in bed with Severus doing nothing at all. He couldn't help but think things were different now. He was different now.

Severus' expression turned irritable. "I have been in meetings all day. I would simply like a quiet night. There's hardly any need to look at me like a sexual predator."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry," he said. He went to his trunk and unlocked a small chest inside it to pull out his cloak. He shoved it into his rucksack along with his toiletries bag and a change of pants. He turned to Severus with a smile. "All set."

Severus nodded and led the way out of Harry's room. Harry popped his head in the common room where the festivities continued. He leant down to speak to Niamh. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She gave him a wide smile. "Make the most of it," she told him firmly.

Harry laughed. "Tell Icarus I'll meet him just after breakfast, okay?"

Her expression grew darker, but she nodded. "Have fun."

"Night."

They apparated to the Centre and then Harry donned his cloak and followed Severus closely through the neighbouring Muggle hotel lobby. He leant against the man as the lift climbed to the sixth floor. Severus' room was small, but clean with a king-size bed dominating the space and a small round table tucked in the corner. Harry pulled off his cloak while Severus ordered room service. 

While they waited, Severus told Harry about the seminar he was giving and the real reason for making the trip, which was to secure a grant for his research. He'd be staying through Wednesday, but would be in meetings most of the day.

"I've got my final exams a week from Monday," Harry said. "During the week, I usually finish around ten-thirty. I have a free hour for dinner around six."

Severus nodded. "We'll make it work," he said. "I didn't come here with the intent of disrupting your studies."

"The stupid thing is I'd rather spend the time with you," Harry said with a grin. "But the team's counting on me."

Severus nodded. "I take this to mean that you will not be coming back when the year is over," he said.

Harry's smile faded. "I have a purpose here, Severus. If I go back, I'll only hole myself up at Grimmauld Place and go mad all over again. Or ... be your houseboy," he said with a small smile.

"It's a noble trade," Severus said teasingly. "But perhaps not suitable for the saviour of the Wizarding world." He reached out to run a hand through Harry's hair.

At the sound of a knock on the door, Harry dutifully covered himself with the cloak and sat silently while a bellboy set a tray of covered food on the small table. Severus tipped the man and locked the door behind him. Harry threw off his cloak and went to join the man at the table. Severus summoned a second glass and poured a measure of wine out for Harry.

"Ursula tells me you're doing surprisingly well," Severus said.

"Really?" Harry said. "She told me you've commissioned her to keep an eye on me," he said accusingly. A grin stretched across his face.

Severus lifted a shoulder as he chewed his lamb. "Are you surprised?"

"Have you seen her?"

"She brought me to see Mr Kennedy, who brought me to you." Severus gave him a searching look. "She seemed impressed you were still here," he said. "Although she wouldn't give me details as to why that should be surprising, she seemed to think you were having problems within your team."

Harry lowered his eyes to avoid the man's searching gaze. "Not really. They've been really great, helping me get prepared for my exams."

Severus grunted doubtfully. "Your friend Miss Larousse seems a clever girl," he said.

"Because she agrees with you?" Harry said grinning.

"In my mind, it's certainly a mark of genius," Severus conceded.

"Niamh's brilliant. She didn't think much of me when I got here, but she's been amazing helping me get through ... everything. She remembers everything she reads," Harry told him. "Like, _everything_. She's a fantastic artist, too."

Severus sneered. "There's such a thing as too talented," he said irritably.

Harry laughed.

"And your young friend?"

"He's not my ... it's not like that," Harry said irritably. 

"Forgive me if I've read too much into your letters, but it appeared to me that you were having problems separating the game from reality. Unless I've got it wrong, you were asked to pretend to be involved with the boy, and you found it difficult to maintain objectivity. When he was touching you tonight, you looked to be ready to hex someone, and were visibly relieved when he left the circle. Master Winter tells me there have been issues within your team, and it doesn't take a genius to conclude that those issues may have been emotionally based. I saw his expression when he looked at me. Were I to hazard a guess: fear, guilt, and jealousy. If you don't wish to talk to me about it, say so, but do not insult my intelligence by pretending there is nothing between you two." 

Harry gaped at the man in wonder. He was vaguely aware of the quiet irritation in the man's voice, but he was far too impressed with the man's powers of deduction to be provoked by it. "I've forgotten how bloody clever you are," Harry said wryly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Damn it, Potter. Tell me what the hell is the matter with you," Severus snapped.

Harry looked at the man a moment before laughing. "You're the one who told me you didn't want me to talk to you about him," Harry pointed out.

"As I recall it, I told you it might not be wise to tell me if he hurts you. Has he hurt you?"

"He's fine," Harry sighed. "We got into an argument a few weeks ago, but it's nothing serious. We still work well together. He's tutoring me on Ancient Runes," Harry said, avoiding the real question. He had no delusions that it would help curb the man's suspicions, but he hoped the reluctance in his voice would cause the man to relent.

A small smirk appeared on Severus' face. "I have fond memories of studying Ancient Runes," he said vaguely.

Harry's eyes widened. "Seriously?" he said in exasperation.

"What?"

"God, I took all the wrong subjects in school," Harry said, shaking his head. 

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Just how has this boy been tutoring you in Ancient Runes."

Harry narrowed his own. "Just what were your study methods?" he demanded in return.

A faint flush coloured Severus' cheeks. The man turned his attention to his food. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine," he said evasively.

Harry stomach flipped over. A nervous giggle bubbled up from his chest. "They're not that interesting, to be honest. Not compared to the way Icarus learnt them. I'm not sure I'd have got through the alphabet with my sanity intact." Harry shook his head. 

"I find that a heightened sensory awareness facilitates memorisation," Severus said.

Ansuz, Harry's brain supplied. His chest tightened with the memory. "Maybe," Harry conceded.

"So, you're happy here?" Severus nailed him with an intense gaze that made Harry feel like he was being turned inside out and examined.

"Happy? I'm not sure anyone could be happy studying thirteen hours a day. But I'm getting better at it, and I'm learning. I'm not really here to find happiness."

A dismayed look crossed Severus' face. He put the cover over his half-finished meal and drained his glass. "But you like it here," he tried.

Harry nodded. "It's weird, but I'm getting used to it."

"What's weird?"

Harry smiled. "When I was sorted, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, and I begged him not to. Well, I've now been sorted into Slytherin, except now I haven't got the Horcrux to make me well suited to it. It's a different world. The game. The competition. The manipulation. The ... sex," Harry sighed. "I'm getting used to it all, but I'm a bit out of my depth. There's this one girl on our team, Malika. I think she's got the right idea. She doesn't get involved. She concentrates on the work. But she's also sort of ... isolated, you know?" 

Severus looked at him thoughtfully a long moment. "You'll adapt, Harry," he said confidently. "You're already stronger than when you left me. Since the end of the war, you've been lost. You no longer strike me as lost," Severus said.

Harry smiled at the man and nodded. "I think you're right. What about you? Are you happy?"

"Aren't I always?" Severus drawled with a sombre expression.

Harry took a deep breath and pushed past awkwardness to ask, "Are you seeing anyone?"

Severus met his eyes. "Not regularly. I've been out," he said carefully.

Harry frowned, trying to reason with the mad jealousy thrashing his insides that he had no claim on this man. Severus laughed mockingly at him. Harry sniggered sheepishly. "I can't help it," he said. "I think I'll hate anyone who's lucky enough to be with you."

"Funny. And here I thought I should feel lucky anyone would want to be with me," Severus drawled ironically. "Have you told your friends that you're gay?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. After that photo, I don't think it was much of a surprise." Severus eyes darkened at the mention of the photo. Harry sped past the subject. "Ron took it far better than I thought he would. He called me an idiot for worrying about it at all. I suppose he's right." 

"I told you things were different in the Wizarding world," Severus pointed out.

Harry nodded. "I suppose I just wasn't comfortable with it."

"And now?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm getting used to the idea. Gay or straight doesn't seem to matter much here anyway. Everyone snogs everyone. For them, it's fun."

"When you throw together a group of hormonal young adults, people are bound to experiment," Severus said sagely. "It's not unique to Egypt, I assure you."

"Okay, I get that. At Hogwarts, people took it in turns dating one another, but it wasn't a free-for-all."

Severus smirked. "You were perhaps born in the wrong decade," he said.

"You trying to tell me that there were regular orgies in Slytherin in your day?" Harry said blandly.

"Not exactly. But the philosophies were different. The Wizarding world was not unaffected by the Muggle Free Love movement."

Harry made a face. "Somehow I can't imagine you adhering to any philosophy called Free Love."

Severus laughed. "No. But it was a good decade to have been an unfortunately ugly adolescent boy. Had I been in school in your day where aesthetics were the deciding factor, I might never have lost my virginity," he said.

Harry grunted vaguely and willed away the blood rising to his face. When he managed to raise his eyes again, he found Severus staring at him. His face went even hotter. Harry groaned and covered it with his hands.

Severus laughed at him. "I take it you've not fully integrated yet," he said, clearly amused.

"Fuck off," Harry whined.

Severus chuckled. "I'll admit I'm surprised," he said. "After seeing that boy kissing you-"

"I told you, it was a game," Harry insisted, dropping one hand but keeping the other firmly over his eyes.

"For you, perhaps. I'm willing to wager it wasn't the last time he kissed you."

"Are you trying to torture me?" Harry snapped, glaring at the infuriating man. "I'm not talking about this with you."

Severus smirked. "You've just confirmed it."

Harry laughed miserably. "What do you care, anyway? Icarus kisses everyone like that. Boys, girls. It makes no difference to him."

"So is that why you're angry with him?"

"No."

Severus' face grew serious. "Did he try to force himself on you?"

"God, Severus. No. He'd never do anything like that."

"I saw the way you reacted when he touched you, Harry," Severus said.

Harry looked at him. "It's not like that," he insisted. "I'll tell you what happened if you promise not to ... go mad at him."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

Harry slumped back in his chair, resigned to explaining the truth so the man didn't work himself up over fantasies about threats to Harry's safety. "Icarus comes from a poor family. His mum basically works just to put him through the program. He supplements what she can't cover with the commission he gets from the tombs. And sometimes from ... selling team secrets to the other team leaders. I found out about it, and we had a row."

Severus gave him a blank look. "That's all?"

Harry nodded.

"What sort of secrets?"

"He told Winter I was being fast-tracked through my first year."

Severus looked distinctly unimpressed. "You're angry with him over that?" he said incredulously. He shook his head. "Gryffindors," he muttered.

Harry clenched his jaw and glared at the man's complete disregard for team loyalty. "He also told Müller about my thing with the newspapers."

He felt somewhat vindicated by the flash of anger he saw in the man's face. "He set you up for that photo?" he growled dangerously.

"No," Harry said quickly. "But when he saw my reaction to it, he told Müller's team, who then wallpapered my room with the article." At the sight of the man's thunderous expression, Harry hastened to add, "It was strategic, Severus. He wanted to try and help me get over it. And he did. He saw it as a way to help both of us."

"You're over it?"

Harry shrugged. "It's not been tested recently, but I grew immune to seeing that article and I managed to look at Niamh's collage of ... war articles without going mad. It's a start."

"Hm."

"It was a shit thing to do, but I believe him when he says he wanted to help me."

Severus nodded. "But you still feel betrayed."

"Wouldn't you? I understand why he did it. I know how deeply he regrets it now."

"You remind me of Dumbledore," Severus grumbled.

Harry snorted. "Only you can make that sound like an insult," he said wryly.

"I resent being made to feel sympathetic toward the little bastard."

Harry grinned. "Are you talking about me or Icarus?"

"I recall what it's like to grow up with nothing and to go to extremes to try and better yourself." Harry lowered his eyes and grunted. "He'll do it again, you know."

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I loaned him the money to pay for his last term."

"I take it back. You're far worse than Dumbledore."

"Call it an insurance policy," Harry said. "If he's not desperate, he'll not be forced to betray us again."

"Loyalty bought is not true loyalty," Severus pointed out.

Harry sighed. "I think he's loyal by nature. If Husef had his way, the whole team would be sequestered and the other teams would know nothing about any of us. Icarus doesn't give the real secrets. Only those he deems safe to give. It's not that big of a deal." Harry gave the man a bland look. "I'm pretty sure you can relate."

Severus grunted. "If it isn't a big deal, why haven't you forgiven him?"

"I have mostly."

Severus gave him an unconvinced look and pushed his tray away. "I suppose I understand better Ursula's surprise that you're still here."

Harry laughed. "How do you know her, anyway?"

"She was one of a long line of Defence professors at Hogwarts. She taught the year after I took the position of Potions master. She may have been the last competent teacher in that position," he said.

"Lupin was good," Harry argued. 

Severus gave an irritable grunt at that, but judiciously chose not to elaborate. "She left to come here. She's a very clever woman."

Harry nodded. "And scary," he said with a grin. "But not as scary as you."

"How kind of you to say," Severus drawled.

"I've missed you," Harry said. "I've missed this."

Severus met his eyes and nodded. "I've sadly neglected to bring my chess board."

"That's all right. We can pretend we played and you kicked my arse again."

"It's somehow less satisfying. I suppose we'll have to skip straight to the whisky and conversation," Severus said, standing and moving to his suitcase. He pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky. Harry nodded and stood to retrieve the tumblers from the minibar.

The two men sat at the head of the bed, shoulder to shoulder. Severus told Harry of the progress of his research, of the success he'd had with his new assistant. Harry told Severus about his practical test, leaving out the part where the room tried to kill him. He explained the exercises and felt some measure of pride in explaining just how skilled he was at working out curses. He glowed a little when Severus called him remarkable.

As the conversation wore on, Harry fought against fatigue, wanting to draw out the evening as long as possible. After he'd yawned for the fifth time in as many minutes, Severus snorted. "If I'm boring you, you can say."

"I'm sorry. I'm knackered."

"At least this time if you fall asleep on me, my back won't suffer," Severus said wryly.

Harry looked at him. 

"What?"

Harry shook his head. "You never mentioned it."

Severus frowned. "It," he repeated.

Harry gave a self-deprecating laugh and scrubbed his face with his hands. He supposed in retrospect, sleeping on the sofa with someone wasn't as big a deal as it felt at the time. He'd done much more since then. "Never mind. Should I go?"

"Given that you packed your toothbrush and pants, I assumed you'd be staying," Severus pointed out.

"I didn't want to be presumptuous," Harry grinned.

Severus eyes glittered in amusement. "Presumptuous would be failing to pack your pyjamas."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Fuck," he breathed.

Severus snorted. "Was that an expression of dismay, Mr Potter? Or a suggestion to cap off the evening?" he teased in a smooth, dark voice.

Harry laughed weakly.

Severus slid off the bed to change into his nightshirt. Harry joined him in the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He felt ridiculously shy sliding between the sheets in his pants and t-shirt, until Severus' mocking forced him to laugh at himself. 

"It isn't as though we've never slept together," Severus pointed out.

"We were both fully clothed then."

"I assure you, your virtue is safe with me," Severus drawled into the darkness.

Harry grunted. "I know," he said quietly.

"Why, Mr Potter, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were disappointed."

Harry's lips twisted. "Be nice." He reached across the space between them and put his hand on Severus' chest. A moment later, Severus' hand covered his. "Good night, Severus."

Harry awoke the next morning to his alarm spell and fumbled for his wand to silence it. He relaxed back to the pillow and looked over to see Severus. The older man's brow creased in annoyance at the sound. He'd never been a morning person.

Harry turned to face the man and watched him until Severus opened an eye. "Morning."

"Hm." Severus' eyes slid shut.

Harry reached to push the hair from the man's face and then scooted closer until his knees were pressed against the other man's. Severus reached over and laid his hand on Harry's side. "I've got to go," Harry whispered. "I'll be busy until around eight tonight. We could have a late dinner."

Severus yawned. "I've already made dinner plans," he croaked. "I should be free by eleven or so."

Harry sighed. "I should probably get some sleep. I have to be up early tomorrow," he said regretfully. "I'll be at the Centre tomorrow for class. Maybe we can meet at six for dinner?"

Severus' eyes slid open a crack. "I may be a bit late. I'll meet you in the restaurant."

"Kay." 

Severus' eyes closed again. The man heaved a sleepy sigh. Harry smiled as he continued to stare at him. "I thought you were going," Severus grumbled irritably.

Harry laughed and tipped his head forward to press his forehead to Severus'. "I'm glad you're here," he said before pressing his lips to the tip of the man's nose. Severus reached up to pat Harry's face absently before rolling over.

Harry quickly washed and changed his pants before apparating directly to the courtyard behind the dorms. He made his way to the kitchen in search of toast and tea. He called out a general greeting over the noise and slid beside Niamh.

"How was your night, Harry?" Meredith said with a lewd smirk.

Harry gave her a look. "Not nearly good enough to merit that look," he said dryly. "But it was nice," he said with a smile. 

"He's no pin-up, is he?" Astrid said with a vaguely disgusted look. "If I had to choose between Icarus and Severus Snape, it wouldn't be difficult," she said.

Harry gave her an irritated look. "I'm not choosing between anyone. Severus is my friend. So is Icarus."

"Tell that to Icarus," Sven muttered.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, pointedly ignoring the group in favour of addressing Niamh. 

"He's gone to the tombs," she said, not looking at him. "You're stuck with me today."

Harry frowned in irritation. If he'd known Icarus was going to bail on him, he'd have been able to spend a little more time with Severus, even if it was just to watch the man sleep. "Kind of him to let me know," Harry grumbled.

After breakfast, he and Niamh retired to his bedroom, where he thought he'd be grilled on every detail of his evening. Instead she fixed him with a fierce look. "What have you done to Icarus?" she demanded.

"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "I haven't done anything to Icarus."

"What the hell happened between you two?"

"Nothing. I told you. I decided you were right," Harry insisted.

"Bollocks." She jabbed her finger into his chest. "You are incapable of controlling your emotions," she declared. "One minute you were all in love with him and the next you're treating him like a stranger. What the fuck is going on?"

"Leave it alone, Niamh. It has nothing to do with you."

"When I have to sacrifice my Sunday because he's too fucking heartbroken to face you, it has everything to do with me!"

"He's not heartbroken," Harry spat. "And you're not obliged to be here. I can study on my own."

"Not heartbroken? You didn't see his face when he realised you didn't come home last night," Niamh growled. "You didn't see his face when he saw Snape."

Harry rolled his eyes. "He was probably just worried about Severus' reaction to that stupid article," he said. "Icarus and I are fine."

Niamh's eyes flashed angrily. "He's in love with you, you arse. Wasn't that what you wanted?"

Harry's face twisted into an expression of fury. "If he is he's got a pretty fucked up way of showing it!" he shouted back. It wasn't fair that he was getting told off for the frosty distance in that relationship. It wasn't fair that he couldn't even tell Niamh just how badly she'd misinterpreted the cause of Icarus' despondency. Guilt. Guilt and not love.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Fucking ask him!"

"He won't tell me!" she shouted. "No one fucking tells me anything." She slumped into Harry's desk chair and glared at nothing in particular.

Harry glowered and leant back against the ladder to his bed. "It doesn't matter," he muttered resentfully.

She sighed. "He's hurt, Harry. I can't stand to see him like this. It's like ... watching someone kick puppies."

Harry snorted at the analogy.

"What did he do?"

"I'm not going to talk about it," Harry said firmly. "It's between him and me."

"Just don't ... parade Snape around here to torture him."

"In case you missed it, Niamh, I was as surprised as everyone else that he was here. I'm hardly parading him around," he growled.

"I know," she said quietly. The sat in wretched silence for a long moment, both looking at the floor as though the mess of emotions were clearly visible and could be so easily sorted out. At length, Niamh gave a resentful sigh. "How was your night?" she grumbled.

"Fine, thanks," Harry muttered back.

She glared at him a long moment. The corner of her mouth twitched. "Okay, tell me all about it."

Harry gave her a look. "I'm not really in the mood now."

"Fuck that. You owe me," she said. "Come on, Harry. I've been dying to spazz out with someone and you're the only one who gets my freakishness. He said he wanted to read my thesis!" 

Harry laughed. "I didn't know he'd inspired your thesis," he said.

"He didn't. I made it up. But ... gods, I'd write it just to show it to him!" she said excitedly. "Now, what happened."

"We just talked. There's not much to tell. He ate dinner and we talked."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Harry mouth quirked into a sideways smile. "We shared a bed."

"Tell me you kissed him at least."

"I kissed him."

"Really?"

"On the nose, just before I left," Harry said, grinning.

Niamh threw her head back and growled at the ceiling. "Oh, gods, how can you be so...."

Harry laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you," he said dryly. 

"How long is he here?"

"Until Wednesday."

"So there's time," she said as though to reassure him. She covered her face with her hands. "Gods, what am I saying? I don't even want you with him anymore. Poor Icarus," she moaned. Her hands dropped, and she was back to glaring at him again. "I hate you."

Harry frowned and lowered his eyes. "Come on, Niamh. You can't really believe he's jealous. Isn't that against the rules or something?"

"Whatever he did to you, I think he regrets it," she said.

Harry nodded. "I know."

"So, forgive him, Harry."

"I have," he insisted. He rubbed his forehead. "I'll talk to him, all right?"

"All right."

Harry looked at her. "I'm having dinner with Severus tomorrow. You want to join us?"

Her face lit up. "Really?" she squeaked.

The two spent the morning going over Ancient runes and the afternoon going over theory and symbology. Harry apparated to Raven's at five o'clock, prepared to study Arithmancy. Raven greeted him frostily, but spent the next two hours introducing Harry to the world of Advanced Arithmancy. When by the end of two hours, the man hadn't warmed up, Harry snapped.

"I get that Niamh's fucked off with me. She doesn't know what's going on. But why the hell are you treating me like the enemy?"

Raven gave him a stony look before sighing. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, dude. I know you're right. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this. It's like..."

"Watching puppies get kicked?" Harry muttered.

Raven laughed. "Niamh?"

"Yeah."

Raven moved over and straddled Harry's knees. He took Harry's face in his hands. "Stop punishing him," he said. "He's punishing himself enough."

"I'm not," Harry insisted. "I'm not trying to."

"You need to talk to him, okay? He's too embarrassed to talk to you."

Harry nodded. He leant his head on the other man's chest when Raven pulled him close. "How was your night?"

"Good," Harry said.

"Are you two..."

"We just talked, Raven," Harry said irritably. 

Raven smiled down at him. "Just asking, dude. He doesn't like Icarus much, does he?"

"He doesn't like anyone," Harry muttered.

"You still a virgin?"

Harry gave the man a look. Raven grinned. Harry laughed and pushed him away. "God, the word privacy means nothing to you people."

"We're a family," Raven laughed. "Come on. Let's bang a few more of these problems out, and then you can go fix Icarus."

When Harry arrived back at the dorms, he poked his head into the common room, kicking Niamh's chair where she sat immersed in a book, listening to music. He raised his eyebrows. 

"He's locked himself in his room," she told him, not bothering to take her earphones out. 

Harry stopped by his own room to deposit his bag and kick off his shoes before making his way down the hall. He took a steeling breath as he reached the door. He didn't want to talk about this. He was afraid it would dissolve into another argument, and he'd just as soon not have another argument. But he didn't want Icarus to torture himself either.

Ok. So maybe he wanted the man to torture himself a little. He felt somewhat satisfied that Icarus felt guilt over what he'd done. But, he didn't want it to get so out of hand that Icarus avoided him. Harry knocked.

"I'm busy," a voice called from the other side.

Harry frowned and tried the door handle. The door opened easily. The man sat with his back to the stone wall, busying himself with staring into space. He looked over with an annoyed expression. His face fell at the sight of Harry. 

"Can I come in?" Harry asked.

Icarus nodded warily. His head met the wall with a dull thud as he resumed staring blankly ahead. Harry closed the door and sat at the edge of the man's bed. Now that he was here, he had no idea what he wanted to say. He sat for a long time trying to find the words to console the man.

"How was your evening?" Icarus said, breaking the silence at last.

Harry looked up to meet the man's eyes, but Icarus wasn't looking at him. "Fine," Harry said quietly. 

"Your friend is a little terrifying," Icarus said.

"A little," Harry conceded.

"I nearly pissed myself when I left the circle and saw him standing there staring at me like ... I don't know. I've never been stared at like that." 

Harry laughed, which felt like a minor miracle given the leaden weight on his chest. "He does it on purpose," he said. "It loses its effect after a few years."

"I assume you told him what happened."

Harry met his eyes. "I hadn't when you saw him. He noticed how tense I was when you were in the circle, and thought you'd ... done something terrible to me," Harry explained. "In the end, I had to tell him what really happened to keep his imagination from running wild."

"Something terrible," Icarus echoed.

"He's ridiculously protective, Icarus. He only had my body language to go on. Why did you even go into the circle?" Harry said, the memory of his annoyance coming through. "You knew I'd identify you right away."

The misery in those deep brown eyes made Harry's heart break a bit more. The corner of the man's mouth quirked up in a parody of a smile. "But you didn't," he said. 

"I knew it was you."

"Are you angry with me for touching you?"

He had been, but he didn't want to admit to being angry over something so innocuous. "It's difficult, Icarus."

Icarus frowned and went back to gazing at something a world away. 

"When I told him, he didn't understand why I was so angry," Harry said. "As someone who traded in secrets for many years, he's particularly well placed to understand your point of view. Even more so, as he grew up quite poor. You shared a small secret for a bit of cash. He joined the Death Eaters for the promise of glory. His fuck up was quite a lot bigger than yours." 

"But he did not betray the people he cares about." 

Harry gave a hysterical little laugh and wished that he could trust the man enough to tell him the truth. But that story would pay significantly more than the pittance he earned from the insignificant secrets he traded, and Harry wasn't quite certain the man could resist the temptation. "Trust me, Icarus. That man spent twenty years atoning for one mistake he made when he was my age. He traded one small secret and has regretted it ever since."

"What do you mean?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't tell you. But if I can forgive him, I can forgive anyone."

Icarus met his eyes. "I hate what I have done to you. I hate myself for doing it."

"I'm not angry," Harry said quietly. "You were in a shit situation and you did what you thought you had to do. I wish you'd come to me, but I'm not angry with you."

"I have lost your trust," Icarus pointed out. "I have lost you."

Harry suddenly understood Niamh's puppy comment. There was no satisfaction to be had in this man's guilt. Harry reached out and laid his hand along the rough skin of the man's jaw. Icarus closed his eyes. "Don't be daft," Harry said gently. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"I hurt you."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"I promised I never would."

Harry shook his head. "You didn't mean to," he tried. "You were trying to help, right? At least the first time, and the second ... doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Your lies make fools of both of us," Icarus said with a small ironic smile.

Harry huffed in frustration and then turned to sit against the wall next to the man. He leant into his shoulder, nudging him gently. "I was angry. And hurt. It's only because ..." He sighed and let his head roll back to rest against the wall. "I fancied you. And I felt stupid for getting close enough to be hurt like that."

Icarus groaned and pressed his forehead into his kneecaps.

"Icarus," Harry pleaded. "God, I'm shit at this," Harry exclaimed to no one in particular. He took a leaf out of the other man's book and pressed his head into his knees. "I know it's stupid. Niamh tried to tell me, and I tried to stop. I'm trying to stop. For the sake of the team and for us. I'm not angry, Icarus. I just can't ... stop." Harry took a deep breath and lifted his head to fold his arms around his knees and pillow his chin. "I'm sorry."

Icarus turned his head to lay his cheek on his knee, facing Harry. "What about him?"

Harry laughed. "It's funny how everyone refers to Severus and 'him' and we all know who we're talking about. I think he'd like that." Icarus didn't laugh. He stared at Harry.

"What about him?"

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes," Harry said without hesitation. "But it's not the same thing. Severus is ... Severus." He realised that wasn't a very helpful explanation, but it made perfect sense to him. "It's complicated," he breathed. 

"You stayed with him last night."

Harry looked over. "We stayed up late talking," Harry said. 

"You did not kiss him?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No," Harry said irritably. "I suppose I have another three days to decide if I even want to. I'm a fucking coward, Icarus. You of all people should know that."

"Yes. Harry Potter is famous for being a coward," Icarus said dryly.

Harry snorted. "Well, I'm not afraid to die. But mention sex..."

Icarus' mouth quirked into a smile. A second later the smile was swallowed by a desolate expression. "We were making progress," he sighed. "You were beautiful the last night we spent together."

Harry's heart clenched painfully. He winced. "I appreciate you ... coaching me. I just need time. It means more to me than it does to you, Icarus."

"Why do you say that?" Icarus said defensively.

"Because I'm an idiot and you're better at the game."

"You were never part of a game, Harry," Icarus said fiercely. 

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry sighed. "But you can ... fool around with everyone and still keep your head. Your heart. Maybe someday I'll ... get there. But it's going to take time." Harry snorted derisively. "Or maybe I should just snog people at random until I get used to it."

"You are a bit of an idiot," Icarus said. He released a heavy breath and put his head against his knees.

"Cheers," Harry laughed.

"If you really think I was ... coaching you? Coaching you? Is that what you think I was doing?" Icarus' voice raised incredulously, causing Harry to sit up and glare at the man. "Do you think I am heartless, Harry? That I do not feel?"

"Did I say that?" Harry shouted back angrily.

"It means more to you than it does to me," Icarus paraphrased.

"I didn't mean to say you were heartless, Icarus. Just that you're better at keeping from-"

"Falling in love?"

Exactly, Harry wanted to say, but something about the man's fierce expression kept him from saying anything. 

"So you are in love with Raven?"

"What? No!"

"But you've kissed him."

Harry shook his head. "It's not the same."

"So, you can kiss without falling in love," Icarus pointed out. "What do you feel when he kisses you?" Icarus asked.

"You mean apart from his lip ring?" Harry said, trying to break the tension with humour. It worked. Icarus' smile stretched across his face. "I dunno. The first time I kissed him I was panicked. The second time, I was ... off my head," Harry said ruefully. 

"When I kiss Raven, I feel ... aroused. He is a good lover." Icarus smiled. "When I kiss Sven, I feel wicked. I like to push him and he likes to be pushed. It is fun, yes?"

"I've never kissed him," Harry pointed out, unsure how they got on this subject to begin with.

"When I kiss Michel, I feel nothing. It is neither pleasant or unpleasant. It is just kissing. But with you, Harry, it is different. It is playful and fun and arousing, but it is more than that, too, yes? You make me want to show you every beautiful thing I have ever seen. When you kiss me, I want to erase every bad thing that's happened to you and replace it with ... love." Icarus breathed the last word. He wrapped his arms more tightly around his knees. "But how can I erase myself?"

"Icarus," Harry sighed, reaching over to run his hand along the man's curved spine. "I don't think of you as a bad thing that's happened to me," he said. It didn't feel like a lie. When he thought about it, for all the wrong the man had done him, the good had far outweighed it. It was annoying to think the man would sell him out, but understandable given the context. "The trouble I have is that given who I am, it's really hard to trust people. Even with what little you know about me, if you decided to, you could sell your story to any British rag and be paid pretty well for it."

"I wouldn't do that, Harry."

"I know," Harry sighed. "At least, I think I know, but ..."

"You can't trust me."

"I trust you ... with some things."

Icarus straightened up and looked at him imploringly. "I promise I will never hurt you again."

Harry swallowed hard and leant in to wrap his arms around the man. Icarus buried his face in Harry's neck and let out a shaky breath. "I don't think you can make that promise," Harry said quietly. "But I believe you mean it."

That, he decided, made all the difference.

**

"He's not coming," Niamh said, looking at her tempus spell.

"I told you, he said he might be late," Harry pointed out. "But I'm going to have to order, I think. Are you getting anything?"

Niamh shook her head. "I'll go as soon as he gets here. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want me hanging around," she said.

Harry snorted and flagged down the server to order the lamb skewers. "So, I spoke with Michel today," Harry said. He'd been debating telling her about the conversation, because it wasn't exactly hopeful. He'd confronted Michel about his resentment issues. 

Niamh raised her eyebrows. "He's just jealous, Harry. He'll get over it. It isn't like you're getting a free ride or anything. Quite the opposite, really. When you're finished with all of this, you need to make up the entire first year of your apprenticeship."

Harry laughed. "I pointed that out, actually, when he told me that I wasn't even qualified to be here to begin with."

Niamh shrugged. "He's French. Qualifications mean more than ability in France. You can be absolutely rubbish at your job, but so long as you have qualifications, you're respected."

Harry grunted. "I asked him if he was planning to leave," he said. "And he told me that there wasn't any point staying with Husef."

Niamh frowned and took a sip of her fireweed and pomegranate juice. "He might be right," she said after a moment. 

"Don't tell me you're thinking about bailing," Harry reproached.

"Gods, no. I'm a masochist," she said with a smile. "And I love you and the team too much to leave. But we're half a team. Next year, without Malika and Zhan, it will be even worse. And now that Michel is defecting, we'll just be right back where we were. And we'll have to do all the shit jobs."

 

"That's what he said," Harry sighed. "I made a deal with him."

"A deal?"

Harry nodded. "He said if I can get Susan to join us, he'll stay."

Niamh snorted. "Good luck with that."

Harry grinned. "That's what he said," he said wryly. "But I have to try. I was thinking of something else, too."

Niamh raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"We need acolytes."

"You don't say."

Harry took a deep breath to still the panic trying to flare inside him. "I was thinking of giving an interview about my experiences here. Only ... you know, the good ones."

The girl looked appropriately shocked. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Harry shrugged. "I'll be pissed off if I've done all this work only to have the team crumble under a mountain of work." Harry frowned. "But getting the word out in Britain might not be enough. The interview would need to be reach a wider audience."

"Raven can help," she said eagerly. "His dad has a lot of connections with the American media. I can translate the interview into French. Zhan might be willing to translate into Russian. There's no guarantee we can get it all published, but ... it's worth a go. If you're sure."

"I think I'm sure. But it makes me feel a little sick if I think about it too much."

Harry moved his serviette to his lap as the server brought a plate of lamb skewers and rice. Niamh stared at the door to the restaurant. "He's not coming," she sighed despondently. 

Harry gave her a sympathetic look and glanced at the door. "He'll come," Harry said, knowing he was right, but hoping that he'd have a bit of time with the man before having to run off again. "He chose a crap week to come here."

"But you had one night with him. Pity you wasted it."

"I didn't waste it," Harry said firmly. "We spent the night doing what we do. What I love doing with him."

Niamh sighed. "Yeah." She stared off into space for a moment. "You know, you'll kick yourself if you don't at least ... show him what you've learnt."

Harry laughed as his cheeks heated up. "I don't know," he said. 

"I'll kick you, then," she said with a playful smile. "Come on, Harry. You have to kiss him."

"I don't even know if he wants me to kiss him," Harry said honestly. "He's never tried to kiss me."

Suddenly her face went slack as she stared behind him. Harry twisted around to see the man stalking toward the table, looking distinctly irritated. Harry smiled at the man uncertainly.

"I'm late," Severus said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezing in greeting. "Miss Larousse. A pleasant surprise."

"I was just keeping Harry company while he waited," Niamh said, pulling her drink to her to finish it.

"The question and answer session went on rather longer than I anticipated," Severus grumbled, pulling his serviette onto his lap. "Apparently they award students extra points if they ask questions. It would seem it doesn't matter if those questions are intelligent or not."

Harry rolled his eyes and gave the man a teasing smile. "Curiosity is such a burden," he drawled.

"I take no issue with sincere curiosity," Severus snapped. "But I must protest when I am forced to waste my time repeating basic principles that, if they're going to attend such a seminar, they should already _know_. Particularly at this level. It became clear that they'd not even paid attention to my lecture."

"Idiots, all of them," Harry said in his best impression of Severus.

Severus glared a moment. The corner of his mouth twitched. "I had more pressing engagements," he said. He glanced over at Niamh who looked to be waiting for the right moment to take her leave. "Are you not eating?"

Niamh glanced uncertainly at Harry. 

"I'm going to have to go," Harry said regretfully. "I have class. I'm sure Niamh would be happy to listen to your laments on the stupidity of the world. You two have a lot in common on that end," Harry said with a grin.

Niamh's mouth pressed into a thin line. "I'm sure Mr Snape has better things to do, Harry."

Severus turned his attention to the menu. "I'm having drinks later with Master Winter," Severus said. "But if you would like to join me for dinner ... you can fill me in on all the details Harry omits in his infrequent correspondence."

Harry thought he could hear the woman's excitement buzzing just underneath the din of the restaurant. "Well, I suppose dinner's almost finished at the dorms," Niamh agreed.

"You can tell him all about your thesis," Harry said pointedly over a bite of lamb.

Severus smirked at him. "I'm sure we'll manage to find something to talk about."

Harry gave the man a look, but hurriedly finished his dinner before gathering his bag. "Shall we try again tomorrow? Same time?"

Severus nodded. Harry stood and touched the man lightly on the shoulder. "Have fun," he said with a cheeky look at Niamh behind Severus' head.

"I'll see you tonight," Niamh promised breathlessly.

Harry had scarcely managed to come through the door after his session with Raven, when he was hit by fifty-five kilos of ecstatic redhead. She kissed him full on the mouth and hugged him so tightly he couldn't breathe. "I love you," she declared. "And I love him." She made a squealing noise and bounced. "Love," she insisted.

"So, it went well," Harry said laughing, tearing himself away to push through the door to his room. She followed.

"He's..." She sighed dramatically and flopped into Harry's desk chair. "Gods, do you know how lucky you are?"

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I kind of do. What did you two talk about?" Harry asked, leaning back against the ladder.

"We talked a bit about the team, but mostly, he talked about his research. Did you know he'd wanted to be a curse-breaker before he became a Potions professor?"

Harry shook his head. "He never told me," he admitted. 

"He didn't have the money for the programme. He'd have been brilliant at it."

"He'd be brilliant at almost anything," Harry said. 

"Apart from diplomacy," she said wryly. "I told him about Icarus and how he struggles to pay for the programme. He said you'd mentioned it to him."

Harry nodded. "A bit."

"I told him that Raven and I were trying to get some money together for next term. He seemed to think you'd already taken care of it." Niamh eyed Harry.

Harry frowned. "He shouldn't have said anything."

"It's really nice of you, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "It's just a loan," he insisted. "Until the bids come through."

"Is that what you two were fighting about?"

"Sort of. I'm not going to talk about it," Harry said firmly. "But I'm pleased you and Severus got along."

It was ridiculously easy to get her off the topic. She flung her head back and lamented, "Why couldn't I have been born a boy? I'd be so much better at it than you," she sighed.

Harry laughed. "Cheers."

"Seriously, Harry. Can you think of one person you'd rather lose your virginity to? I mean, Icarus is sweet and everything, but Snape is ... the way he looks at you ... and his voice. That nose. Gods." As Harry sniggered, she stared blankly up at his ceiling. "I'll bet the man wields a wicked whipping spell."

Harry covered his face and dissolved into full-blown giggles. Niamh joined in. "I can confirm," Harry said, recalling his duel with the man the night of Dumbledore's death. "Although I can't say I found the experience particularly pleasurable."

"Baby steps," Niamh said with a grin.

"You're a freak."

"Yeah," she said. "But he told me that if I ever want to get away from curse-breaking, that I should send him my CV." She beamed proudly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Blimey," he said. "For Severus, there's no higher compliment, you know. To him, everyone is an idiot unless they can prove otherwise." 

Her elation manifested in a high pitched squeal in her throat. "Gods, I need to go and draw. There's a hundred different expressions I need to commit to paper." She stood and pulled Harry into a big hug. "I totally owe you."

"I didn't do anything," Harry pointed out. 

"You made my dreams come true."

"Surely not."

"Well," she said with a shrug, "one of them, anyway. The others, I'll live vicariously though you," she said with a wicked grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Night."

"Night!"

**

Harry was sat in the archives, finishing up his last assignment for Marchese. Michel and Susan sat huddled a few tables away, talking in low voices. Michel had confessed that he knew Susan had been asked to seduce him for the sole purpose of luring him to Winter's team. Harry couldn't understand why that didn't seem to bother the other man. When he asked, Michel had shrugged and said, "It's is the game, no?"

Harry was gathering his things to go and meet up with Severus, when he was stopped by an enthusiastic, "Harry!"

He turned and smiled. "Hullo, Husef," he said, grinning reflexively.

"Come with me," the man said before turning without waiting to see if Harry followed. 

Harry jogged to catch up. "Is this going to take long?" he asked worriedly. "I made plans to meet a friend for dinner," he explained.

"Two minutes," Husef insisted. "We need to talk about your new contract!"

"Shouldn't I pass my exams first?" Harry said with an uncertain smile. 

"Of course you will pass! You are very clever!" He clapped Harry on the back. By now, Harry was used to the treatment, so he didn't stumble forward. "I am very lucky to have you on my team, yes!"

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

Harry grinned. "Thanks." Harry thought about his plan to bolster recruiting efforts. He'd wanted to approach Husef about the subject, anyway, and the long walk back to the man's office was as good a time as any. "Actually, Husef, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Of course," the man looked over warily.

Harry gave a reassuring smile. "We need acolytes, right?"

"Do you know anyone?" Husef asked, almost hopefully.

"Not really, but ... I thought I could give an interview. I've not given an interview in years and I think there would be interest enough after that stupid article came out."

"Hm. That was unkind, yes?"

"Yeah. But we could use it to ... I dunno, raise interest in the programme."

Husef stopped to give Harry an assessing look. "I understood that you do not like to see your name in the papers."

Harry nodded. "I'm working on that. But I want to help the team. And we need more numbers."

Husef grunted soberly and began walking again. Every step he took echoed loudly in the stone corridor. "Even with new acolytes next year, we will struggle, yes?"

"Yeah, but maybe if there enough people interested, we may be able to push one or two through like you did with me."

"It is not so easy, Harry. You are exceptional," Husef said. 

"What about Ellis? You were trying to push him through as well, right?"

Husef nodded. "But he grew up in a family of dark wizards. This is not normal."

"I didn't know," Harry said.

Husef lowered his voice. "I suspect Michel will not stay."

"He told me he would stay if we could convince Susan to join our group," Harry confided.

"You think it's possible?" Husef asked.

Harry shrugged. "I thought I'd start trying once this term is over," Harry said. "It can't hurt."

Husef slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. His deep laugh echoed through the corridor. "You are a good boy!" he exclaimed. "I am a very lucky man to have you, yes!"

They arrived at Husef's office. The two minutes he'd promised Husef had now turned into five and they'd not even begun talking about his contract. Husef showed him a rough draft. "Normally, as a first year, you would receive two percent commission," Husef told him. "Because you will be the only first year, I will offer you four. But ... I will want you to work in the tombs," Husef said. "Supervised, of course, but we need your help."

Harry looked at him. "I thought first years couldn't work in the tombs."

Husef waved dismissively. "It is a general rule. But you are so much better than a first year, yes? And because of this, Marchese has agreed that you are ready. But you must be supervised at all times!" Harry rather thought this rule, like all the others, was more of a guideline. The idea of going down into the tombs was thrilling, however, and Harry wasn't going to insist if no one else was.

"I'm happy to go into the tombs," he said.

"Of course you are!" Husef declared.

"But I don't want four percent," Harry said. "I'll take the standard two. I think you should divide the other two percent between Michel and Susan. As an incentive."

Husef looked at him like he was insane. "This is a lot of money, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "I have more money than I need, Husef. I'd prefer to know that the team was solid. It would show Michel that he's appreciated, and it might help to sway Susan next year."

Husef grinned at him. "You are crazy, Harry, yes? This is why I like you!" 

Harry laughed. "I really have to get going, Husef."

"Yes! Two minutes!"

The man insisted on going through every clause of the contract to ensure that Harry didn't want to change anything. Then he went through the non-disclosure agreement specific to his team that forbade him from giving any sensitive information in regards to the work and methods used within the team. By the time the two minutes were up, it was nearly half-seven.

Harry dashed down to the dorms to change textbooks. He apparated to the Centre and rushed through the winding corridors to get to the restaurant. As he reached the door, Severus was coming out, looking disgruntled.

"Sorry," Harry panted.

"Well, I can hardly berate you given my own tardiness yesterday," Severus grumbled, looking very much like he wanted to tell Harry off, despite the hypocrisy.

"Husef caught me just as I was about to leave. He wanted to go over my contract." Harry bent over to try and catch his breath, resting his hands on his knees. He looked at his wristwatch, which gave him fifteen minutes before class. "Fuck."

"Never mind," Severus said. "Shall I walk you to your class?"

Harry straighten up, feeling suddenly sick at the realisation that this was the last time he'd see Severus for awhile. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

Severus glanced over. "I didn't expect you'd be coming home," he said cautiously.

Harry shrugged. "I haven't made plans. But if you're there ..."

Severus shook his head. "I've a conference in America. I'll be making the rounds there to garner support for my research."

"Of course," Harry muttered irritably.

"It's important," Severus insisted.

"I know."

"We're so close, Harry. If we get this right ..."

"An end to Lycanthropy. I know." Severus' vaccination would be lifesaving. It was more important than spending time with an old friend. "I'm sorry. I just ... wanted more time."

Severus touched his arm as they walked. "Me, too," he said in a low voice. The continued walking slowly to the other side of the Centre, each lost in his thoughts. "I enjoyed meeting your friend Niamh," Severus said.

Harry smiled. "I thought you might like her."

"Indeed. And it isn't every day I get to have lunch with a young woman who is so obviously smitten with me," Severus said with a smirk.

Harry glanced over and laughed. "I won't tell her you worked that out. She'll be mortified."

"It is puzzling," Severus said.

"Not so puzzling," Harry countered, nudging the man in the side with his elbow.

Severus looked over and grunted. "But you're mad."

"A little," Harry conceded. "It's practically a pre-requisite to working here." Harry stopped and nodded up a flight of steps. "I'm just here," he said regretfully. "I'll come to your hotel tonight. Maybe Raven will let me out a bit early."

"I have an early Portkey," Severus said with a frown.

"Please?" Harry gave the man an imploring look. "Just ... let me say goodbye properly." 

Severus looked at him and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. He nodded. "All right. Apparate directly in. If I'm not there, wait for me."

**

"Where are you tonight, dude?" Raven asked after Harry'd muddled up yet another exercise. "You know this shit."

"Sorry," Harry said. He shook his head. "Severus is leaving tomorrow, and I told him I'd stop by tonight to say goodbye," he confessed.

Raven's eyebrows went up. A small wicked smile curled onto his lips. Harry groaned. "Don't look at me like that," he said. "I'm just saying goodbye." The nervous swirl in Harry's stomach belied his reassurance.

"Uh-huh," he said, unconvinced. "Do you always get nervous when you say goodbye?"

Harry put his head in his hand. "No," he breathed.

"So what are you planning?"

"I'm not planning anything, exactly," Harry insisted. But after Harry's plea to say goodbye "properly", he wondered if Severus would expect something more than a chaste kiss on the cheek. Whenever he thought about kissing Severus, it made him feel giddy and terrified all at once. He couldn't even form an image necessary to imagine anything else.

"I can see why you'd be nervous," Raven said, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs to wind through Harry's. "He's intimidating as hell, isn't he?"

Harry snorted. "I'm not intimidated by him," he said. "I might be the only one who can say that. I just don't know how he feels, you know?"

"How do you feel?"

Harry met the man's piercing blue eyes and shrugged. "I've been infatuated with him for months. But it's never really been ... physical, you know? But I know that's only because ... I'm not really comfortable with all this. Maybe if I ... kiss him I'll have a better idea of how I feel."

Raven tilted his head to the side. "Makes sense," he said. "What about Icarus?"

Harry frowned. "It was Icarus' idea," he said. Icarus had told him during their lunch session that he thought it would be good for Harry, if only to know if Harry's feelings for the man were returned. It bothered Harry that the man approached the subject so pragmatically, but he supposed, in Icarus' mind, not all kisses were the same.

Raven snorted. "What a dick," he breathed.

"He's not a dick," Harry argued. 

"He is. But that's what we love about him. So ... you're going through with it?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I thought I'd play it by ear."

Raven stared at him a long moment before leaning in to kiss Harry on the mouth. "I'm jealous," he admitted.

Harry snorted. "Why? You want him too? You can join Niamh's fan club," Harry joked. "We meet every afternoon."

"Not him. But you're ours, you know? He gave you up." He stood and pulled Harry up with him. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and kissed his forehead. "If he doesn't want you, he's insane," Raven declared.

Harry grunted. "Some might argue the contrary," he pointed out.

"No one who counts," Raven said seriously. "Now go on. You're useless tonight. You can tell me how it goes tomorrow, okay?"

With a baleful nod and a thudding heart, Harry disapparated. The hotel room was dark and Harry stumbled as he appeared, thankfully landing on the bed. He pulled his wand and set a ball of light floating to the ceiling. Severus wasn't there.

He kicked off his shoes and settled onto the bed to wait.

At first, he waited nervously, but when the time stretched on and Severus didn't appear, his apprehension devolved to irritation and then boredom. He pulled his Arithmancy text out to try and do what he'd failed to do at Raven's house, but his concentration wasn't what it needed to be. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself leaning forward and pressing his lips against Severus'. There were several different scenarios that followed from the one action.

In the first, and most likely, Severus returned the kiss rigidly before pulling back and telling him that it would be wise for him to get back to his dorms. Harry would be humiliated, but vindicated that the man had no interest in him apart from keeping him safe.

In the second, Severus pulled back straight away and sent him back to the dorms like a scolded student.

In another, Severus returned the kiss eagerly, passionately, and somewhere in the middle, Harry realised that kissing Severus had been a mistake. That he didn't really like the man 'like that', and that now he was stuck in a kiss that he'd initiated. That scenario ultimately ended with him fleeing the scene, returning back to the dorms and berating himself for his stupidity.

Then, there was the one where they both enjoyed the kiss. The kiss grew heated. Severus' pushed him down to the bed, sliding his long fingers under Harry's t-shirt as he rocked against him. Harry's hands would tear at the man's robes, eager to get through the layers to the skin underneath. Finally, Harry managed to rid the man of his robes and then ...

Nothing. He simply couldn't think past that point.

"Harry?" A low, rumbling voice purred next to his ear.

Harry blinked and turned. "What time is it?"

"Eleven-thirty," Severus said, standing and beginning the arduous task of removing his outer robes. "I got detained."

Harry snorted and stood up, righting his glasses. "Do you think Fate is trying to tell us something?" He laughed at the look his remark received.

Severus shrugged out of his robes and laid them neatly over a chair. "I think our schedules are both very full," he said. He came to sit on the bed next to Harry. "Thank you for waiting."

"I suppose you need to get to bed," Harry said quietly, folding his legs to sit closer to the man. 

"I suspect I'm not the only one," Severus said, reaching over to push Harry's hair back from his eyes.

Harry took Severus' hand in his own. "I wish we had more time," he said, looking down at Severus' hand in his own. At the long fingers stained yellow from years of working with ingredients, but still somehow beautiful for all of that. 

"I'll be back in spring," Severus told him. "I've been asked to sit on the panel in next year's International Alchemical Conference."

"Really?"

Severus smiled. "Assuming you survive that long," he added dryly.

"I'll make an effort," Harry said blandly.

"See that you do," Severus said seriously. "I should be very put out otherwise."

Harry smiled. "It's because you wouldn't know what to do without me, right?"

"I'm learning to cope," Severus said. "One would think after so many years on my own, it would be easier."

Harry's heart swelled, making it rather difficult to breath. A grin stretched across his face. He propelled himself forward onto his knees and wrapped his arms around the other man. Severus grunted in surprise before folding his own arms around Harry. The man let out a deep breath and held a bit tighter.

Harry inhaled deeply, savouring the peculiar scent of the man that made him feel warm and safe. He pulled his head back. His heart seemed to stutter for a moment before picking up a harder, faster rhythm. His eyes met Severus' dark gaze and he thought he could see something of a challenge there. Harry closed his eyes and held his breath as his nose pressed beside the other man's. His hands slid to rest on the man's jaw. He gathered up all of his fabled courage and pressed forward, lips closing around Severus' thin bottom lip.

The two men held the position for an eternity, hovering uncertainly at a crossroads. Severus' finger closed over Harry's chin. The man tilted his head and opened his mouth, forcing Harry's apart as he captured Harry's lip in turn. Harry's breath left him in a hot blast. His tongue crept forward to moisten the man's lips.

It wasn't like kissing Icarus. There was nothing playful about this kiss. Nothing teasing. Icarus normally took the lead, coaxing Harry to heights he was otherwise afraid to go. Severus let Harry control the rhythm and pace, answering each brush of tongue in kind, and doing nothing to escalate it. Harry trembled with a combination of nerves and a rush of excitement that came from meeting one's fears head on. His body buzzed with adrenaline and, as the kiss progressed, arousal that was not at all as terrifying as he'd anticipated.

Harry moaned softly, shifting his head again to bring the kiss closer. His tongue, emboldened, stretched out to tangle with the other man's briefly, before retreating. Severus's fingers tangled into Harry's hair, his other hand dropping to stroke down Harry's chest, causing Harry to shiver under his touch. Harry's hands fell to Severus' shoulder, clenching over them to steady himself as Severus' hand came to rest at his hip. His thumb teased the skin just above the waist of Harry's jeans.

Harry gasped and broke away to scrape his teeth over his bottom lip. Severus' eyes were impossibly dark when they opened to stare at him. Harry knew then that he could do it. Suddenly, the block on his imagination cleared and he could envision giving himself to this man. As thought it had already, happened, Harry saw himself spread out. He could practically feel the weight of the man against his inner thighs. He could see Severus' intent stare; he could hear the low voice murmuring encouragements as he guided Harry through the experience.

The thought caused a swirling of apprehension in his belly, but in his heart he knew it was Fate. He knew it was right. Looking at the man boldly, Harry reached down to pull his shirt over his head.

Severus looked at him with wide eyes. His lips parted as though to protest, but Harry wasn't having it. He lurched forward to kiss the man again, moving over to straddle the man's lap as his fingers fumbled with Severus' buttons. After a moment, Severus stopped his hands.

"I can't do this," he said in a rough voice.

Harry felt the man's rejection pour through him like ice water. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against Severus'. "Why?" he whispered.

Severus hands went to Harry's sides, fingers stroking over Harry's ribs. The man tilted his chin up to kiss Harry again gently. "You should go," he said.

The number of times Harry imagined this scenario did nothing to prepare him for the reality of it. He felt his throat close up and his eyes sting. "Why?" he insisted shakily.

Severus hands urged him off the bed. Harry turned away, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. He covered his face with his hands, humiliation and anger welling inside him. "You still see me as a kid."

"No."

"You don't want me," Harry said tightly.

"Harry."

Harry didn't want to hear the explanation. He shook his head violently before lowering himself to the floor to put on his shoes. "Sorry," he muttered and then stood. "I shouldn't have..." His throat closed over the rest of his sentence. He couldn't speak because he would cry if he did. He clenched his jaw and stood, turning to face the man. He couldn't bear to look at him. "See you in the spring."

He waited a few seconds for the man to say anything at all. But Severus didn't. Disgusted with himself and angry with the older man, Harry spun and apparated back to the dorms. He pushed through the door and let it bang shut behind him. Both Niamh and Icarus looked out from the common room, both visibly relieved to see him.

"Good night," Harry said, lowering his eyes and walking determinedly to his room, closing it behind him. He didn't bother getting undressed. He couldn't care less about his teeth. He crawled into his bed, curled into a ball and pulled the pillow over his head, humiliated and heartbroken.

The door to his bedroom opened. "Do you want to talk about it?" Niamh asked.

"Please go away," Harry said tightly.

"We're here if you need us, okay?"

Harry curled up smaller in his bed, wishing for all the world that he could disappear. He could hear Niamh and Icarus arguing in hushed voices outside his door, and he silently pleaded with both of them to leave him alone. Eventually, the voices grew fainter as the two moved away from his door and Harry was left alone with his wounded pride and his unwanted virginity.


	11. Chapter Eleven

_  
Harry,_

_I understand you're angry, and perhaps I might have better handled the situation. You must understand that the moment was overwhelming and my resolve was shaky at best._

_I do not see you as a child. You've never been a child in any real sense of the word, and the fault for that lies, at least in part, with me. Because of my actions, you were robbed of your childhood. Your happiness. I cannot in good conscience take what is left of your innocence. Someday, I will have to meet your mother again, and I do not fancy my chances with her if I were to accept the gift you wanted to give._

_Please forgive me if I was too stunned, frightened and aroused to explain things to you last night. There are men with whom I might engage in one night stands without consequence. You are not one of those men, Harry. I am already far too possessive and far too emotionally involved with you. Sex between us at this point would only exacerbate an already complicated situation. Given the environment in which you live, sexual fidelity is not a reasonable option, and with you, I would settle for nothing less._

_Stay in Cairo. Live. Learn. Have fun. If you return, when you return, if you're still mad enough to want me, I'll be waiting._

_Yours,  
Severus  
_

Harry stared at the letter despondently, ignoring the covert looks he was getting from Niamh over breakfast. It helped to know that Severus' body had wanted him, even if he was too bloody-minded to listen to it. But it didn't help Harry to feel less humiliated. Having finally resolved to take that step, it hurt to have his offering so blatantly refused.

If he returned. When he returned. That would be years from now. Harry wondered if Severus' offer to wait was not just a way of letting Harry down easily. He had to believe that Harry would lose interest after so long. _If you're still mad enough to want me_. Sanity aside, Harry didn't think he'd ever have the balls to try again.

Invoking his mother only made Harry feel more miserable. He imagined his parents looking down at the scene from the great beyond, faces curled in disgust of what their son had become. He tried to imagine Sirius, champing at the bit to have just one minute on earth in which to murder Severus. What would they think of him? What would they say if they knew what their son had become?

Fighting back a wave of self-disgust, Harry ripped up Severus' letter before banishing the scraps. He banished his tea and half-eaten toast before standing. "I'll meet you in class," he muttered to Icarus and Niamh.

Given that mid-term exams were coming up, the classes this week were focussed on revising the lessons learnt so far. As Harry had lived the revision every day for the past five weeks, he scarcely needed to pay attention. Müller sought to call him out on his distraction by asking him to list the five essential principles for casting dark curses. Harry rattled them off without thinking, earning him an incredulous look from all but Icarus and Niamh.

Müller looked distinctly displeased that his attempt had been futile, but he left Harry alone to his thoughts for the rest of the class.

Harry insisted he wasn't hungry and went directly to Icarus' room to wait for their lesson. Icarus came in with two bowls of soup and forced one into Harry's hands. "You did not eat breakfast," the man said when Harry gave him an irritated look. He took a spot on the bed next to Harry. "Did he hurt you?"   
Harry looked over and snorted. "Are you going to run after him to defend me?"

"I might," Icarus said with a small smile. "For you. I would get killed, but ..." He shrugged.

"He didn't do anything to me," Harry said. And judging by the letter he read, he never would. Harry really should have known better to think otherwise. 

Icarus looked thoughtfully into his bowl of soup. "And you wanted him to."

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry muttered.

"I don't want to see you upset," Icarus said. "I think your friend is an idiot."

"He's not. I'm the idiot," Harry sighed. "Can we just revise please? I'd rather not relive last night."

Icarus looked reluctant to let the subject go, but relented all the same. He spent the next hour tossing runes stones and getting Harry to extract meaning from the arbitrary ways in which they fell. When they were finished, Harry stood to go, and Icarus pulled him into a hug. "I am sorry it did not go well with Severus," the man whispered into his neck. "And I am sorry for being relieved."

He pulled back with a contrite smile and then pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek. "I am a selfish bastard, yes?"

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Yes," he said, shoving the man gently away. "But at least you're honest."

"It didn't go well, then," Raven said as soon as he popped into his flat.

Harry sighed. "You know, I remember a time when I had privacy."

"Those days are over, dude. Welcome to the team," Raven said with an unapologetic grin. He pulled Harry to the sofa and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "Come on. Tell me all about it."

"I prefer to keep my humiliating experiences to myself," Harry said, struggling to get out of the man's grip. 

"So, you tried to kiss him and he ... what? Threw up on you?"

Harry laughed. "No."

"He laughed at you?"

"No."

"He ... told you you're a terrible kisser?" Raven guessed. Harry gave him a bland look, and Raven shrugged. "Hey, it's a purely subjective thing. I, for one, find your timidity incredibly arousing."

"He kissed back," Harry said, recalling briefly the heady mixture of nerves and arousal. The surprising sweetness of Severus' tongue. The faint taste of alcohol on his breath. All before the searing humiliation.

"How dare he?" Raven gasped. "Don't see the problem, dude. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Harry wrinkled his nose and ignored the blush rising to his face. "Things were going along all right. And when I tried ..." He shook his head and buried his face in his hands. "He kicked me out."

"You were going to sleep with him?"

Harry nodded from behind his hands.

"Ouch."

Harry drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead against them.

"Did he say why?"

"He wrote a note this morning. Basically, he was too fond of my mum to steal my innocence. And a bunch of bollocks about not wanting to complicate our relationship further," Harry muttered to his knees. "But if I'm still game in a few years, he might be willing to give it a go," Harry said with forced cheer.

Raven wrapped his arms around him again and kissed him on the shoulder. "Well, if you're giving it away..." he said suggestively.

Harry snorted and pushed the man playfully. "You're not helping."

"I think Icarus would kill me," Raven mused.

"He hardly has any claim over it," Harry pointed out. 

"I know that. He knows it, too. But he has pretty clear ideas about what kind of person should have the right to take it from you. Disgustingly romantic ideas, but that's Icarus."

"God, it's not even like _it's_ a real _thing,_ " he grumbled. "What the hell does it matter if he shags me now or in ten years?"

"Maybe he prefers experience?" Raven tried. 

Harry grunted. "The truth is it doesn't matter. To him, I am still the product of a woman he adored and a man he hated. I'm a kid he's sworn to protect. In ten years, I will still be Harry bloody Potter."

Raven gave him a look. "It's not a bad thing that a man your parents' age doesn't want to fuck you, you know?" 

Harry groaned and moved to bury his head in Raven's shoulder. "Did you have to put it like that?"

Raven snickered. "I call it like I see it, dude." He kissed the top of Harry's head. "If you ask me, the sooner you get rid of _it_ , the happier you'll be."

"So I should just go back to the dorms and offer myself to Icarus."

"As pleasing an image as that is, I don't think he'd accept," Raven said ruefully.

Harry snorted in disbelief. Raven met his eyes, and it occurred to him that the man wasn't joking. "Why wouldn't he accept?" Harry asked incredulously.

"He doesn't deserve you," Raven said. He held up a hand to stop Harry's protest. "His words, dude."

"So, basically, even if I wanted to get rid of it, I have no options. Good to know," Harry said with a mirthless laugh.

Raven laughed and mussed his hair. "If you get desperate, go to Icarus and tell him it's either him or me. He might come around," he said teasingly.

"I hate my life," Harry said wretchedly.

"Luckily, we have Arithmancy to cheer you up."

"Lucky me."

The more Harry thought about Icarus, the more annoyed he got. It was bad enough that Severus looked at him like some precious thing to be preserved, he didn't need the same sort of shite from his mates. Severus, he could understand, given their history. But if he thought of all that he'd already done with Icarus, sex was nothing more than a next logical step. He couldn't abide by someone else refraining from touching him out of a sense of fucking guilt.

When he arrived at the dorms, he found Icarus in the common room, curled sideways in a chair with his legs hanging over the armrest. Icarus looked up from his book when Harry came in. "Hi."

"Can we talk?" Harry asked and then turned to go to his room.

Icarus followed with a wary expression. He came in and pushed the door closed and then leant against it. "Are you all right?"

"If I asked you to shag me right now, would you do it?"

Icarus' eyes widened. His mouth dropped open as he scrambled to recover from shock.

"I am not something precious, Icarus."

"Um."

"Do you seriously think you don't _deserve_ me? Really? Like I'm some fucking prize?" Harry ranted.

"Have I done something wrong?" Icarus said with a puzzled expression.

Harry frowned, realising that perhaps he might have gone about this in the wrong way. "Raven said you wouldn't accept my virginity if I offered it to you."

Icarus clenched his jaw a moment before asking, "And were you thinking about it?"

Harry frowned. "It was a hypothetical situation."

"Hypothetically, if you'd not just offered yourself to another man last night, I might consider it," Icarus said, his gaze hard and cold. "If you asked me to shag you right now, I would have to say no. I think it means more to me than it does to you," he said, paraphrasing Harry's own words. "Is that all?"

Harry stared at the man, stunned. He closed his eyes and exhaled. When had he become such a twat? A few months ago, this sort of question was the furthest thing from his mind, and now it seemed his whole life revolved around it. Was he really standing here berating a man for not wanting to sleep with him? What the hell was wrong with him?

"God, I'm sorry," he said quietly. He walked over to the man and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm so sorry." 

Icarus relaxed against him a moment later. "He wouldn't shag you because you are precious?"

"He didn't use those exact words," Harry said, laying his head on the man's shoulder. "But that's the basic idea."

Icarus sighed. "It must have been horrible for you. To have gathered up all your courage and then to be sent home."

"Pretty bad, right?" Harry sighed and pulled back. "Are you angry with me?"

Icarus dropped his eyes and shook his head. "I understand why you didn't choose me."

Harry looked at the man miserably. "I didn't choose anyone. I didn't go and see him with the intention of sleeping with him, Icarus. But when I was there, I realised that I could. And that if it was going to happen, it had to happen then. Except ... he didn't want me." 

"He is a fool." Icarus laid his hand on Harry's face and smiled. "But I admire his strength. I cannot imagine being strong enough to kick you out of my bed."

Harry smiled in recognition of the man's attempt at making him feel better. "I'm sorry I shouted at you," Harry said.

Icarus shrugged. "It was the strangest argument I have ever had."

"I'm an idiot," Harry admitted. 

"But an adorable idiot," Icarus grinned. 

"Cheers."

"Good night, Harry."

"Night." 

**

Harry did what he could to put the entire mess behind him. He was in the home stretch and by this time next week, his fate would be decided. Either the weeks of studying would pay off, or Harry would choke and forget everything at the last minute. He concentrated the next few days on Arithmancy and Symbology, his two weakest subjects.

The dorms emptied out Saturday, most of the residents having returned home for the holidays after the exams taken Friday. Barring Michel, Husef's team were staying behind to work in the tombs over the break. Harry had therefore spent much of the weekend alone, which had become such a rare occurrence, he almost didn't know what to do with himself.  
By Sunday night, he had learnt all he was going to learn. Monday morning, he would sit his exam with Marchese. Monday afternoon, he would sit his exams in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. By Wednesday, he would have his results and by Thursday his contract would be signed, making him a first year apprentice. He felt he should be nervous about his exams, but he was infused with a sense of resignation. He could honestly say he'd done his best to prepare. If it wasn't enough, then he truly didn't deserve advancement.

Monday morning, he was woken up before his alarm by both Icarus and Niamh, who pulled him out of bed to quiz him over breakfast. After inhaling the first cup of tea, he was able to answer whatever question they gave him with little thought. Satisfied, they escorted him to Marchese's office.

"You will do well," Icarus assured him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Good luck."

"You've already passed," Niamh reminded him. "Even if you learned nothing over the past six weeks, you'd have done well enough to make it through." She kissed him on the lips and pushed him through Marchese's door.

"Harry!" Mistress Marchese greeted. "Are you ready?"

Harry grinned. "I think so."

"You will do fine. There will be no practical exam, and you received full marks for your project. Unless you have forgotten what you knew last time, you will have no problems," she told him. She sat him down at a table in her office with his exam paper and quill. "You have one hour," she said. "Starting now."

Forty-five minutes later, Harry was finished. Given that he knew more or less what to expect, the exam proved to be quite easy. Almost too easy. He wondered if he'd not missed something.

"Don't be ridiculous," Niamh said when he met the group in Raven's office after the exam. "You've been breathing this stuff non-stop for six weeks. If you found the acolyte's exam difficult after that, I'd think you were thick."

By the time the day was over, Harry felt that all information that he'd gathered over the past few weeks had bled out of him through his quill. When he made his way to the Centre restaurant to meet Niamh and Icarus, they looked at him with matching expectant gazes.

Harry shrugged. "I think I did all right," he told them. In fact, he thought he did really well, but he was feeling somewhat shell shocked by how smoothly everything had gone and he didn't want to raise expectations too much.

"If you do not get an Outstanding in Ancient Runes, I will be very disappointed," Icarus said teasingly. "You had a brilliant teacher.

"Brilliant," Harry agreed. "If somewhat unconventional."

Icarus winked at him and the three went to Raven's to celebrate Harry's fate, whatever that might be. Icarus did the cooking, Raven supplied the booze. This was to be a prelude to the proper celebration at Husef's house on Saturday, once all the results had come in. Harry couldn't help but think of it as the only party that mattered.

By mid-evening, the three were feeling quite merry indeed. All talk of the exams had been forbidden. Harry had nothing to study at the moment. He had nothing to do but relax and enjoy himself. Every now and again, he experienced a moment of guilt, like there was something he'd forgotten to do. And then he'd remind himself that, for the next two days, at least, he was free.

"We need to mark the occasion," Niamh said, slurring only slightly and giving Harry a studious look.

Harry grinned at the woman. "I thought that's what we're doing."

She shook her head. "You should get tattooed," she said, her eyes lighting up with the brilliance of her idea.

"No."

"Raven, tell him he should get a tattoo," Niamh whined.

"Dude, get a tattoo."

"Don't get a tattoo," Icarus said, trying to suppress his inebriated grin to form a serious expression.

Harry laughed. "I'm not getting a tattoo."

"A piercing?" Raven suggested.

"Totally," Niamh said. "His nose."

"His cock."

"Fuck off," Harry said to both of them.

"His nipple," Icarus suggested. 

Harry turned to glare at the man. "I thought you were on my side," he said reproachfully. "I don't remember you having any piercings," Harry pointed out.

Icarus sighed. "My mother would kill me." He smiled. "If you pierce your nipple, I will pierce mine."

"Ouch," Harry insisted. "No way."

"It doesn't hurt that bad," Niamh said.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"Wanna see?"

"I really don't," Harry said balefully. 

She offered hurt look before laughing. "Fine, Mr Squeaky-Clean."

Harry frowned. He hated when she called him that, for all it was true.

"It really doesn't hurt," Raven said. "A numbing charm and a quick healing spell and you won't even know it's there."

"And it's incredibly sexy," Icarus added with a grin.

Harry looked around at the appealing gazes of those he called his friends. Were he to choose between a tattoo and a piercing, the piercing seemed a little less permanent. He supposed he could always take it out if he didn't like it. Some part of him insisted that he didn't have to choose between a tattoo and a piercing, but he kind of liked the idea of doing _something_. "Is there even a place to get pierced in Cairo?" he asked uncertainly.

"Dude, I have all the gear," Raven said with a wicked grin.

"Come on, Harry. You know you want to," Niamh said.

"Aren't real friends supposed to talk you out of shit like this?" he chided. His reproach was met with laughter. He wondered what Severus would say. He felt certain the man wouldn't approve. It made him want it all the more. He wrinkled his nose, took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "All right."

Niamh squealed and Raven grinned triumphantly. Harry turned to Icarus. "I suppose you can keep your shirt on when you get home," he said teasingly.

Icarus laughed. “It wouldn't matter. My mother would know. She knows everything," he said. "But I am a big boy, yes?"

Within five minutes, Harry lay between Icarus' legs, his bare back cushioned by Icarus' belly. Raven sat astride his hips and curled over him, holding his wand. "You sure you want the numbing spell?" he asked.

"Why on earth would I not want the numbing spell?" Harry asked incredulously.

Raven shrugged. "I prefer to feel it," he answered.

"You're mad," Harry said soberly.

Raven pointed his wand at Harry's nipple. Harry felt a vague feeling of cold, but nothing else. His eyes widened at the sight of a seemingly gigantic curved needle. Icarus stroked his hand down Harry's side reassuringly. "Close your eyes," he suggested.

It was a good suggestion. He let his head fall back against the other man's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to take deep calming breaths. Raven's fingers pinched the skin, registering as a small amount of pressure. Harry could feel the point against his skin, but there was no pain.

"Finished," Raven declared.

Harry's eyes snapped open. "Really?" He looked down to see a small shiny green ring dangling from his left nipple with a small silver ball. Slytherin colours. He laughed incredulously. "It had to be green," he sighed and let his head fall back again.

"Matches your eyes," Raven told him. His breath fell over Harry's lips a second before his lips met Harry's. Raven sucked Harry's bottom lip between his teeth. "Shall we do the other one. So you're not lopsided?"

Harry laughed. "Go on then," he agreed. This time, he watched the man push the needle through the small pink nub with a detached sense of wonder. He felt nothing. As the second ring was capped off, Harry stared down at the chest of a stranger. He smiled at the result. It was a bit sexy, he thought.

Raven cast a healing spell over both sides. "Now you, Icarus. I've waited years for this," Raven declared with a wide grin.

Harry and Icarus changed places. Icarus pulled off his shirt and pressed his back against Harry's bare chest. Harry gave a small sigh at the exquisite warm, silky feeling of the man's skin next to his. He watched Raven sterilize the needle and the two rings before straddling Icarus' hips. 

Icarus hissed as the weight of the man fell directly over his cock. His hands went to grasp Raven's hips as he let out a little laugh. Raven grinned at him wickedly. "With or without?" he challenged.

Icarus groaned a little. "Without," he said with a resigned sigh.

"Excellent," Raven said.

"You're both mad," Harry said in an awed tone.

"Icarus likes a little pain," Raven said with a meaningful smirk.

"Not as much as you like to give it," Icarus said in an amused tone. "Try and concentrate, yes?"

Raven licked his lips and nodded. Harry noted a flush of pink across the pale skin. He looked over to see Niamh watching the scene in fascination.

Icarus' breath hitched as the needle pressed against the raised skin. "Aïe," he said tightly, turning his head to the side. Harry bit his own lip, stroking the other man's head as though he could take away the pain. Icarus breathed roughly as Raven progressed. Sweat slicked the space between Harry's stomach and the man's back. The experience was relatively quick, but knowing Icarus was in pain made it seem to stretch on forever. By the time Raven had the blue ring closed in the man's nipple, Harry was ready to insist the man use a numbing charm.

"Are you ready for the second?" Raven asked in a rough voice. His eyes were dark. His breath came raggedly.

"Use a numbing spell," Harry said quickly.

Icarus reached up to pat Harry's head. "It's okay," the man breathed. He tilted his head back to kiss Harry's throat. "I'm ready," he said breathlessly.

Harry swallowed thickly and gave Raven a vaguely pleading look. Raven didn't appear to see it, taken as he was with the task in hand. His fingers tightened over Icarus' pink flesh, as his right hand pierced it with the needle. Icarus went rigid against Harry, giving a tight grunt as the metal penetrated him. The sight made Harry feel slightly nauseated, so he closed his eyes and pressed his lip into the man's dark brown hair. He didn't look up again until he felt the man's sigh of relief that indicated Raven's healing spell.

Harry looked down the man's chest and gave a wan smile at the sight of two blue rings with silver balls dangling below the man's nipples. The sight was promptly obscured by Raven's head, blowing to flick at the ornaments with his tongue, before coming up to feed that same tongue to Icarus. Harry looked away discretely from the scene unfolding ... well, on top of him. He met Niamh's eyes. She offered him an exasperated look and said, "Looks like it's you and me tonight."

Her prediction was confirmed as Raven slid off Icarus and pulled him up. It was foolish to feel jealous, Harry knew, but as he watched Icarus being tugged away by Raven his insides twisted painfully. A small frown pulled down his brow.

"You're pathetic," Niamh said helpfully.

Harry turned away from the closed door of Raven's bedroom and looked at the woman. "Cheers," he said irritably.

"Do you expect him to stay celibate?"

"I didn't say anything," Harry said defensively.

"You didn't have to," she said with a sympathetic smile. She came up to her knees and ran her long dark fingernails over his newly pierced flesh. The numbing spell had worn off now and feeling something hard and unyielding shift under his skin was a strange feeling indeed. She grinned at him. "I have an idea."

Harry gave her a hesitant look. "Did you mean that to sound ominous?"

"It won't hurt a bit," she promised, pulling him up by his hands and leading him to Raven's small bathroom. She put down the lid of the toilet and ordered him to sit. Out of sheer curiosity, Harry obeyed. His mouth fell open dumbly when she pulled out a black eyeliner pencil.

"You're not putting make up on me," he said.

"Oh, I beg to differ," she said. "It washes off. You'll be fine."

"Wasn't getting pierced enough for you?" Harry said with a small laugh.

"Come on. I just want to see it," she said, plucking off his glasses.

From the room next door, Harry could already hear the muffled moans and rushing breaths from Icarus and Raven. The sounds served to simultaneously arouse him and irritate him, although he couldn't say why, exactly. He really didn't have a problem with the fact that the two men were intimate. His problem, rather, stemmed from the fact that Icarus and he no longer were.

"Look up," Niamh ordered, leading a pointy stick to his eyes. Eager to do something more than listen to that which he no longer had, Harry complied.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this," he said dryly.

Niamh laughed. "Me either. But I'm glad you are. Saves me from having to listen to those two."

Harry grunted in agreement.

"Your eyes are green with envy, Harry," Niamh teased.

"Your eyes are as green as mine," Harry pointed out, trying desperately not to blink as the pencil made its slow progress underneath his eyes.

"Maybe not as green," she said, smirking. "Close your eyes."

"I draw the line at dresses," Harry said wryly.

"Pity. You'd make a lovely girl," Niamh answered. "I'll just point out that this is Raven's make-up."

Harry grinned. He started at the sound of a loud slap, followed by a pained cry that he felt certain belonged to Icarus. 

"Bastard," Niamh muttered.

"What the hell are they doing?"

"Ah, Harry. You have so much to learn."

Harry jerked away to favour the woman with his best glare. Another slap sounded. "Raven's in a mood," Niamh sighed. "I really like Raven in this mood."

"You don't have to babysit me, you know," Harry pointed out. "I can always head back to the dorms."

"Nah," she sighed. "Icarus needs this more than me. Besides, when else will I get a chance to transform you into the boy of my dreams?"

"My nose isn't nearly big enough," Harry pointed out with a grin.

"You'll do," Niamh said in an amused voice. "Stay there. No peeking."

She left the bathroom. Harry heard the door to the bedroom open and Niamh's hasty apology. 

"What are you doing?" Raven asked in a bemused tone.

"Playing dress up," Niamh answered. After a minute or so, she chirped cheerfully, "As you were," before reappearing in the bathroom with an armful of Raven's clothes. "Now, to do something about that hair."

An hour later, Harry stood in the centre of Raven's living room, staring at Niamh stare back at him with a satisfied expression. "Fucking hell, you're hot," she breathed at last.

Harry laughed nervously, raising his hand to feel the shaved backside of his head. He'd had reservations about letting her take the shears to him, but as she pointed out, if Harry didn't like it, it would grow back by morning. He looked down at the torn yellow t-shirt with the some sort of skull on it and the word Misfits printed in black across the front. The seams were held together with safety pins and a tear at the front showcased his newly-pierced nipple. He wore a pair of leather trousers that were slightly too long. The excess length was tucked into Raven's knee-high boots. 

He felt ridiculous.

"You've turned me into Raven," he observed.

She grinned broadly. "The name suits you better," she said. She shook her head and stared at him in wonder. "I should do this for a living. Raven's got a mirror in his bedroom. Once they're finished, you can see, okay?"

"I don't think I want anyone to see me like this," Harry said, blushing at the thought.

"Who's going to care? Icarus? Somehow, I don't think he'll be put off." She walked toward him and put her hands along his jaw, turning his face right and left to examine him. "This might be a new look for you," she said. 

Harry gave her a bland look.

She smiled at him and ran her hands down his chest and back over his leather clad arse. "You realise I'm gay, right?" Harry said, amused.

"So? I'm not," she said before kissing him.

Harry chuckled into the girl's mouth, but returned the kiss as she tugged him over to the sofa. He gave a surprised yelp as he was turned and pushed down. Niamh gave him a wicked smile. "I've always wanted to kiss a boy who was wearing my lipstick," she said before straddling his lap and attacking him again. It was a playful kiss that held nothing of the heady desire that made Harry feel drunk whenever he kissed Icarus. It was clear that Niamh was quite fond of biting, but the nips of teeth were more surprising than painful. Soon Harry responded in kind.

Niamh's fingers tugged teasingly at his nipple ring, sending small spikes of sensation shooting through his chest, surprising a laugh from him. "That feels so fucking weird," he said.

"You think _that_ feels weird," she said with a mysterious smile.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Should I even ask?"

"Pity you're a poof," she said with a grin. "Listen." She went quiet. Harry's ears piqued. "I think it's safe," she whispered. "Come on."

She climbed off Harry's lap and tugged him up, pulling him toward the bedroom. "Shouldn't we wait for them to come out?" he said uncertainly. 

"They may have passed out," Niamh said. "It isn't like either of them is shy." She opened the door and stuck her head in before pushing the door the rest of the way opened.

Without his glasses, Harry could only make out two figures in the bed. By their colouring, he could identify which was which.

"Oh my god," Raven breathed.

"He's your dark twin," Niamh said with a little giggle. Her voice grew suddenly sober. "Icarus?"

"Give us a minute," Raven said.

Harry squinted futilely toward the bed as Niamh pushed him back out the door. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Niamh said, her troubled face coming into focus. "He's upset."

"You don't think Raven –" He stopped the sentence at her annoyed expression.

"Raven would never hurt Icarus," she said severely. 

Harry knew she was right, but he couldn't help but feel concerned by the sounds he'd heard before.

"Come on," she sighed. "We'll have to make do with the bathroom mirror." 

She brought him to the bathroom and turned him toward the small mirror above the sink. Harry blinked at the stranger staring back at him. His eyes were a smudge of black with a circle of vibrant green at the centre. His lips were a mess of red that bled beyond the contours of his lips. His hair had been shaved close up the back and around the sides, with the hair at the crown teased into spikes that fell in a fan across Harry's forehead. 

"What do you think?"

Harry reached for his glasses sitting at the back of the toilet and put them on to see more clearly. "That can't be me," he said, but it was.

"You look great," Niamh insisted.

"Apart from the lipstick."

"I like the lipstick."

"You would," Harry said with a teasing smile. "What do you think is wrong with Icarus?" He turned away from the mirror to look at her directly.

"I've been asking myself that question for weeks now," she said with an irritated glare in his direction. 

Harry shook his head. "It's not me," he said. "He and I are fine now." 

"When was the last time he kissed you?"

Harry blinked against a sudden vision from the last time he woke up with the man. Their snog in the showers. Before everything got complicated. "What does that have to do with anything?" he said sullenly.

Niamh frowned. "Really? Harry, it's Icarus. If you two were fine, he'd be out here with you, don't you think?"

"Not if he wanted sex," Harry argued.

"In case you didn't notice, Raven was still wearing his trousers."

"I may not have much experience, but I'm pretty sure sex is possible with your clothes on. What do you want me to do? Leave?"

"No!" she shouted. "I want everything to be like it was before."

"Before I got here."

"You know that's not what I mean," she said heatedly.

"What the hell are you two fighting about?" Raven said from the living room.

Niamh spun around. "What the hell is going on?"

Raven's mouth curved into a small smile. "I asked you first," he said. His eyes darted toward Harry. He shook his head. "Wow. Weird."

Harry pushed past Niamh and out the bathroom, looking around for his own clothes. He pulled off Raven's t-shirt and replaced it with his own. He sat on the sofa to begin undoing the laces of the boots, silently seething. 

"Not weird in a bad way," Raven reassured him, clearly mistaking the reason for his irritation. "Just ... different."

"Harry, I didn't say you had to go," Niamh said in exasperation.

He glanced up at her and then at Raven who frowned. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Dude, you're not going."

"Dude," Harry said. "I am."

"What did you say to him?" Raven asked Niamh.

"I didn't say anything," Niamh said defensively.

"She didn't say anything," Harry agreed. His eyes darted to the bedroom door. 

Raven sighed. "Things got intense. He's fine," he said.

"Bollocks," Niamh said. 

Harry snorted as Niamh echoed his own thoughts. He attempted to pull his leg free from the boot, but the thing clung to his foot resolutely.

Raven knelt in front of him and began loosening the laces. "I like the hair. You should have drawn the line at lipstick, dude."

Harry snorted miserably and slumped back as the man helped to tug the boot free.

"The colour's great on him," Niamh protested, coming over to sit next to Harry. Raven began on the other foot.

"Is he all right?"

Raven's eyes met his. He nodded. "He'll be fine." The man dropped his eyes to the boot as his fingers tugged at the laces. "He'd be better if you went in there."

"I told you," Niamh muttered angrily.

"Leave him alone, Niamh. Harry didn't do anything wrong."

But he didn't do anything right, either. If he thought snogging the man would make everything better, he'd do it. He simply couldn't see how that was going to help. Harry lifted his leg and pulled as Raven pulled in the opposite direction. Harry's foot slid free. 

"Thanks," he said.

"No worries. They're a bitch to get off," Raven said with a smile. He put his hands on Harry's knees and pushed himself up to standing. Harry stood just after, fingers going to the waist of the trousers to undo the zip. 

Raven stopped him. "Keep them on. It'll cheer him up."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Harry said. 

"The leather pants?"

Harry gave the man a look. "Talking to him."

"So, don't talk," Raven said, taking Harry by the chin and running his thumb through the lipstick smear around his mouth. "You're both shit at it anyway."

Raven gave him a little push toward the bedroom. Harry let the momentum carry him the rest of the way. He pushed into the room and saw Icarus lying in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. The man twisted to look at him. An incredulous smile curved onto his lips. "You're wearing lipstick," he said.

"Niamh was bored," Harry told him, closing the door behind him before crawling up to lie next to the man.

"I like your hair."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what to think of the eyeliner," the man laughed.

Harry grinned. "I look ridiculous."

"No."

"Are you all right?"

Icarus' eyes slid closed. He shook his head, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

"Is it me?" Harry asked quietly.

The man took a long breath and shook his head again, clearly lying. Harry's heart clenched to see the man in pain. He longed to have the old Icarus back. The man with the impish grin and the gentle humour. The man who made Harry feel like he was the only person in the world who mattered whenever he kissed him. He wanted his friend back.

Don't talk, Raven advised, and Harry decided the advice was good. He couldn't reassure the man any more than he had. Not in words, anyway. So, Harry kissed him. He had no idea if it would help, but things couldn't possibly get worse.

Icarus inhaled sharply as Harry's lips met his. His hand went to Harry's face as he shifted to pull Harry's bottom lip between his own before pulling away. "Harry," he breathed plaintively.

Harry pressed his forehead against the other man's. “Please, Icarus. I miss you," Harry whispered. "I hate seeing you like this. I hate that I did this to you."

"You did nothing," Icarus said with quiet fierceness. "I did this to myself."

"I don't care what you did," Harry said, pressing his lips against the other man's again. "You won't do it again," he whispered against the man's mouth. "I trust you." And he did. Perhaps it made him a fool, but he didn't believe the man would ever deliberately betray him again. Not after seeing the man continue to wreck himself over what was, in essence, a relatively minor indiscretion.

"You are saying that to make me feel better," Icarus said wryly. 

Harry pulled back and looked the man in the eyes. He nodded. "And because it's true," he said. "And because I want you to kiss me like you used to," he said with a guilty smile.

Icarus laughed. It was a wonderful sound and it made Harry feel a bit lighter to hear it. 

"Unless, of course, you don't want to kiss me." 

Icarus answered without words, leaning in to capture Harry's mouth. It was tentative at first, but soon Harry deepened it, taking control to bring it back to the level it was in that immortalised first kiss. Harry moved over, pushing the man onto his back without breaking contact. His head swam from lack of proper air, his heart beat a celebratory rhythm. Icarus's hand slid down his body to rest against his arse. 

The man pulled away and looked down. "You are wearing Raven's trousers?" he said.

Harry laughed. "Niamh," he explained again. "I think she was trying to turn me into him while he was busy with you."

Icarus gave him a look that could only be described as hungry. "I love these trousers," he said intently, his hand sliding over the skin tight, heated material.

"That would explain why Raven wouldn't let me take them off," Harry said with a grin.

"Come here," Icarus said quietly, urging Harry to sit on top of him. Harry curled down to kiss the man again, as Icarus' hands slid up his leather clad thighs, over his arse, and finally tugging Harry's t-shirt off. Harry broke away to pull the thing over his head before curling over, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Icarus' head. Icarus reached up to toy with the ring in Harry's nipple, tugging gently. He smiled as Harry gasped at the novel sensation. 

The man sat up, curling his head down to address the other side with his tongue and then teeth, gently biting down over the metal. Harry's exhaled raggedly, hand moving between them to tug gently at Icarus'. Icarus moaned encouragingly before straightening up to pull Harry into another kiss. Harry pushed him down and lay on top of him, shifting his hips up against the hard lump under the blankets. Icarus' hand flew to his arse, urging Harry's hips to maintain the rhythm as Harry swept away the man's moans with his tongue.

Harry broke away, panting to catch his breath. He ducked his head down to bite at Icarus' neck in that way that always drove him crazy when Icarus did it to him. The man's gasps were music to his ears. Harry slid downward kissing his way over Icarus' collarbone and down the man's chest. His hips shifted until his stomach pressed down. Harry looked up, as he extended his tongue to flick it over the pink centre of the metal ring. Icarus bit down on his smile as Harry circled the nipple with his tongue like Icarus had done to him. Finally, he took it between his teeth and pressed against it cautiously, as his hand tugged gently at the other side.

Icarus' hissed and flexed his hips against Harry's stomach. Harry tensed his muscles to offer something hard to press against, as he continued to experiment with the new additions to the man's already perfect body. When Icarus' hands went to his head to try and urge him back up again, Harry had other ideas.

Before the mess had happened, Harry had been trying to work up the courage to take the man in his mouth. He had no hope he'd be good at it, and indeed, he probably would be rubbish. But he wanted to be at least as good as Icarus, and there was only one way to achieve that. He kissed his way down Icarus’ tight stomach, sliding his nose along the lines that marked out his muscles and inhaling the man's clean, masculine scent.

He paused to nibble at the skin around Icarus' navel, as his hands pulled the blankets down to reveal Icarus' erection, which nudged at the underside of Harry's chin. Harry took a deep calming breath, even as Icarus exhaled harshly. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at the man, who was propped on his elbows, looking down at him with a vaguely startled expression. It made Harry laugh. "I want to try," he said with an uncertain smile. 

Icarus whispered something in Greek and reached down to stroke Harry's face. Harry wrapped his hand around the man's cock and pulled it upright. "Talk me through it?"

Icarus nodded dumbly.

It was difficult to recall what felt good when Icarus had done it to him, because Harry couldn't recall anything not feeling good, frankly. He pulled the foreskin back gently and swept that tip of his tongue over the glans, sweeping up the salty flavour. 

"Get it nice and wet," Icarus breathed.

Harry complied, twisting his tongue around the tip as his hand moved in a far more familiar motion, the movement of the foreskin eased by his spit. As he stroked down, Harry opened his mouth wide to wrap his mouth around it, eliciting a soft gasp from above. He distinctly recalled the incredible feeling of Icarus' tongue wiggling against his cock, but for the life of him, he couldn't work out how the man managed it. It was all he could do open his mouth wide enough to fit him in and shield his teeth at the same time.

Harry came up again, pressing his tongue hard along the underside as he suckled the tip. He used his tongue and mouth to wet the shaft before trying again, eyes going up to confirm that he wasn't doing anything wrong. Icarus' hand went to curl around his hair as his teeth bit hard over his bottom lip. "Gods, Harry," the man breathed, his eyes rolling up.

The sound of the door opening made Harry go rigid. Raven's quick, "Sorry" was followed by the door closing again. Harry choked over the mouthful and then came up again to laugh. Icarus flopped back to the bed with a low groan. Harry tried to ignore the low murmur of voices coming from the other room and soldiered on, stroking as he laved his tongue over the glans.

The door opened again. "Seriously?" Harry said over his shoulder.

The door closed against Niamh's ecstatic giggle. Icarus shook with laughter. "Fucking hell," Harry breathed, somewhere between irritation and fond exasperation. Harry wrapped his lips around the man again, effectively cutting off Icarus' hilarity. He slid down as far he dared, with Icarus' soft, "Not too far or you'll choke" as guidance. He began to pick up a rhythm, his mouth moving in tandem with his hand toward a common purpose. Icarus' breaths picked up. His hand against his head setting the pace without forcing the movements. After a moment Harry's jaw ached. He tried to ignore the pain, but it grew too much for him to withstand comfortably. He pulled up, breathing roughly. "Sorry," he breathed, flexing his jaw to ease the ache.

Icarus sat up, pulling Harry into a deep kiss. "You are perfect," he breathed before shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth again. 

Harry tensed up when fingers dropped to the zip of the trousers. "Careful," he gasped. He wasn't wearing pants and the jagged teeth of the zip so close to his bits was daunting. Icarus eased him to lie back against the bed and expertly pulled the material up to ease the zip down. Harry lifted his hips as Icarus peeled the trousers down his arse and over his legs before tossing them off the side of the bed. He tugged Harry's socks off and discarded those as well.

Harry ignored a feeling of shyness at finding himself so completely naked. It wasn't the first time, after all, and the man's eyes were focussed on Harry's face. An indescribable expression took control of his features, making Harry feel incredibly warm despite the cool air of the bedroom. Harry widened his legs slightly and held out his arms. Icarus crawled forward and lay on top of him.

He stared down. A small smile curled onto his lips as he stroked Harry's face with his fingertip. The smile grew to a grin. "I think this is the first time I've ever had lipstick on my cock," he laughed.

Harry sniggered and then dragged his forearm across his lips. He grinned at the faint pink smudge. "You can't leave me alone with Niamh again," Harry said.

"She put you in leather trousers," Icarus pointed out. "It was not all bad. Your eyes are beautiful." He lowered his head to kiss Harry's goofy grin. The movement sent the man's cock pressing behind Harry's balls. Harry met the kiss, eager to distract himself from that pressure. To distract himself from the worry of where all of this would lead. His fingers stroked down the finely muscled back and rested against the man's pale arse.

Icarus groaned and pressed up again as he shifted his head to take the kiss deeper still. Every time his head moved his entire body moved with it, each time causing his prick to jab insistently behind Harry's balls until Harry was half mad with both anticipation and nervousness. Icarus broke free with a harsh breath and lifted his hips, reaching down to pull his cock up. He lowered his hips again, his erection sliding to rest next to Harry's. 

They kissed again. Icarus' hand slid down Harry's side, over his hip to gather one of Harry's legs, pulling it over Icarus' hip. The man thrust upward, pelvis grinding against Harry's cock, Icarus' own cock spearing against Harry's belly. Harry's back arched at the intense wave of pleasure the movement incited. Harry's hands pressed against Icarus' arse to encourage him to keep doing it.

Icarus gave a low, agonised moan. He thrust his tongue into Harry's mouth as his hips obeyed Harry's silent demands. Harry did what he could to flex his hips up, offering Icarus the same pleasure. The two men exchanged breaths and whimpers, sucking the sounds from each other's mouths until Harry forgot to kiss the man altogether. His attention was fully concentrated on the increasingly urgent pressure at the base of his spine, in the bruising rhythm of Icarus' pelvis sliding over his cock.

"Fuck," Harry cursed in a tight voice, his body going rigid as Icarus moved to urge him to the peak.

"Yes," Icarus breathed, speeding up his movements until Harry exploded, his orgasm crashing through him, wrenching a cry from his throat. Icarus grabbed his hips and shifted to grind against Harry's pelvic bone in quick, targeted movements. At length he buried his head into the pillow beside Harry's and shouted as he came, the adding a new warm wetness to that which cooled against Harry's belly. 

The two men lay panting as they recovered, occasionally jerking as an aftershock took them. Icarus laughed and raised his head to kiss Harry again. "I have not done that since I was a kid," he grinned.

Harry cringed and looked at the man apologetically. "I've never done that," he said.

"You are so beautiful," Icarus sighed.

"So are you," Harry smiled, looking into the deep warm gaze and finding himself captivated and grateful to have the man back.

Icarus slid up to kneel between Harry's legs. He looked around for his wand and then grinned at the mess that was Harry's stomach. He reached down to trace his finger through the spunk. It occurred to Harry almost immediately that it was a rune. "Kenaz," Harry whispered. "Of the Freyr Aett. The beacon."

Icarus grinned at him. "Inspiration, vitality, light. Passion."

Harry swallowed thickly. His heart sped up and expanded and took over his chest. Icarus slid down again, deliberately slipping through the mess. His face hovered just over Harry's. Harry looked at him until he thought his chest might explode. "Love," Harry finished.

"Love," Icarus whispered back.

"Ready or not, here we come," Raven called out before shoving the door opened. 

Harry and Icarus jumped apart. Harry scrambled to get the covers over his waist. Judging by the cat-like grin on Niamh's face, he didn't quite get there in time. "Seriously. You two suck." 

"Speaking of sucking," Niamh said. 

Raven laughed. Icarus covered his mouth and sniggered when Harry glared at him. 

"Dude, you walked right into that," Raven said. The man pulled out his wand. "Shall I?" he said before casting a cleaning charm over both of them. Harry thought he might expire from humiliation. He covered his face and let himself be pulled back against Icarus. Icarus chuckled and kissed the side of his head. 

"This sort of thing doesn't happen in real life," Harry said darkly.

Raven and Niamh crawled onto the bed to face them. "That's what we need to talk about," Raven said seriously.

"Real life?" Harry asked. "Or respecting people's privacy?" he added pointedly.

"Both," Raven said.

"You two have ruined everything."

"They've not ruined anything," Raven argued. He looked at both Harry and Icarus grimly. "Yet."

"Raven," Icarus sighed.

"We need to talk about it," Raven said calmly.

"We don't need to talk about it right now," Icarus argued.

"Someone want to clue me in?"

"We're going to have a lot of free time over the next two weeks. The issue is going to come up," Raven said calmly.

Harry frowned in frustration. "How about I just pretend I'm not here?"

"You two have coupled off," Niamh told him, looking distinctly displeased.

Harry's eyes widened. He twisted around to look at Icarus. "Have we?" He realised the prospect wasn't precisely unwelcome. He couldn't tell by Icarus' expression what his thoughts on the matter were.

"We haven't talked about it," the man said through clenched teeth.

"Dude. Tell me you told him," Raven said irritably.

Harry gazed between the two men. "Told me what?"

"I was trying when you barged in here," Icarus said irritably.

"Tell me what?" Harry demanded worriedly. Kenaz, his memory supplied. "Oh," he gasped. His hand rubbed absently at his stomach. Heat rushed to his face, which stretched into a silly grin that he couldn't quite suppress. An undercurrent of resentment at the interruption was almost completely forgotten as he was filled with a sudden sense of elation. 

"I think the message was received," Raven said wryly. He laughed at Harry.

Icarus tightened his hold on Harry and kissed the side of his neck before letting out a heavy sigh. "Next time, we lock the door, yes?"

Harry twisted his head to press a kiss to the man's mouth. "Yes," he agreed avidly.

"Ugh," Niamh said disgustedly. "I actually think I might sick up."

Raven grunted in agreement.

"You two could piss off if you'd like," Harry suggested politely.

Raven smiled. "It's my room," he pointed out. "And we need to talk about this."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Harry said, adopting Icarus' erstwhile irritation for his own. "Did you do this to Zhan and Malika?"

"None of us were actually fucking Zhan or Malika," Raven pointed out.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it as realisation struck.

"Raven."

"It matters, dude. We just need to know where the lines are," Raven insisted reasonably.

Harry laughed, struck by the absolute bizarreness of his current situation. His mind was still reeling from the aborted declaration of love, and his body still tingled with the warmth of the interrupted afterglow. And despite it all, the man in whose bed Harry now sat naked was asking him permission to continue to shag another man who may or may not be his first boyfriend. 

He decided then and there that Fate couldn't possibly exist because no force in the universe could possibly dream up this scenario.

Harry wiped the mirth from his eyes, taking note of the amused and wary smiles turned toward him. He shook his head. "My life is so weird," he breathed.

"We don't need to talk about this now," Icarus said insistently against Harry's shoulder. 

Harry curled his arm up to stroke the man's head. "It's okay," Harry said. "I mean, I think I'm okay with it." He met Raven's eyes and knew it was true. 

"You were dead jealous," Niamh pointed out doubtfully.

Harry shook his head. "I wasn't really. I mean, I was. But not because they were together," Harry said. "But because I ... wasn't." The whole situation was far too complicated to explain. 

Raven's eyes went wide. "You wanted to join?" he said incredulously.

Icarus twisted around to see Harry's expression.

"No," Harry said, his face going hot again. He refused to follow that line of thought and so struggled to find the path of logic. As though logic existed in this world. "I ... have no idea how to say this without sounding like a twat," he sighed dejectedly.

"You and Icarus weren't right," Raven offered. "And it bothered you that he disappeared with me when things between you two weren't kosher."

Harry blinked and gave a grateful smile. "You're really good at this," Harry said wryly.

Niamh rolled her eyes. "He's American," she said. "They're all about communicating their feelings." She sneered to suggest that she didn't consider this to be a good thing, exactly.

"At least one of us is," Raven countered, crawling up the bed to sit beside Icarus. Niamh came up to sit herself between Harry's legs, leaning back against him.

"What about you, Icarus?" Raven asked.

Icarus grunted softly. "I am not sure," he said. 

Harry turned to look at the man. A smile curled onto his lips. "Baby steps," he said, remembering Niamh's advice. Her laugh vibrated against his chest. Harry curled his arms around her and grinned.

It was a fucked up situation, he decided, but one that he was already getting used to.

**

Harry stood under the spray of the shower in Raven's apartment, trying to get as wet as possible in a short amount of time to conserve scarce water supplies. Icarus reached behind him to turn the spray off. He poured soap into his hands and began lathering Harry's body. Harry offered the same service.

Icarus gave him an uncertain look, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. His eyes dropped to where his hands smoothed soap over Harry's chest.

"What?" Harry asked.

"We did not get to talk last night," Icarus said.

"No."

"I am falling in love with you," Icarus said quietly. "I started falling the first time we were alone together for the detection lesson and I have fallen a little more every day since then," he confessed. "I think I will lose my mind by the time I stop falling."

The grin that sprung to Harry's face seemed to spread through his entire body, making him feel light and airy until he felt like he might float away from it. He couldn't speak for joy, so he kissed the man instead. 

Icarus embraced him, their chests slipping together. The man let out a shaky breath. "I know you are in love with Severus."

As though the name were a spell, Harry fell heavily back to earth. "Icarus," he breathed, pulling away.

The pain in the man's face was real. "Raven should have let us speak before presuming anything."

Harry shook his head, unable to find the words to explain to the man why his feelings for Severus were irrelevant. "It's not like that," he said dismally.

"Harry, you were going to give yourself to him just last week," Icarus pointed out.

Harry closed his eyes. "It's complicated. Severus and I are complicated. The history between us is so ... twisted and emotional that I can't even explain it to you, Icarus. It's ..."

"Complicated," Icarus finished.

"Please," Harry said. "Icarus, don't hold that against me. You and I were ... not right, and he was the only other man I could trust."

Icarus put his hand on Harry's jaw. "I do not hold it against you," he said. "But I do not want you to come to me only because he did not want you."

The man's words hollowed Harry out. He stepped back as if he'd been struck. His tentatively pieced together heart fissured once again. Harry turned and put the water on to rinse himself. Icarus' forehead pressed at the back of his neck. 

"Raven is right. We suck at this," the man breathed. "That didn't come out right, Harry," Icarus said reaching to turn the water off again. "All I wanted to say was that I want you to be sure you want me. Because I do not want to lose you to him when he realises how stupid he was."

Icarus urged Harry to turn around and look at him. "Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

The man's mouth quirked up in that adorable way it always did whenever he was about to say something stupidly soppy. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Harry laughed. "Okay," he said.

Icarus glared and pushed him against the wall. "Okay?"

"Yes," Harry said, beaming.

**

Officially still an acolyte, Harry couldn't join the rest of his team in the tombs for the day. Raven, Niamh and Icarus left him to meet up with Zhan, Malika and Husef just after breakfast. Despite Raven's invitation to him to make himself at home, Harry didn't feel quite comfortable alone in the flat. He decided to head back to the dorms to at least change his clothes.

He arrived in the courtyard behind the building. The door swung open as he reached for it. Lisa blinked at the sight of him.

"Hey," Harry greeted.

"Harry," she said. "I was just looking for Jean," she said. "Have you seen him?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "I wasn't around last night. I know a few people were planning to go scuba diving," he offered. "Maybe he went with them."

"Maybe," she said. Her eyes went unfocussed for a moment before returning to him. "How did the exams go?" she asked.

"Well, I think," Harry said. "I'll find out tomorrow."

"You're still set on staying with Husef?" she asked.

Harry laughed. "Loyal to a fault," he said dryly.

She nodded, her gaze going distant once again.

"You all right?" Harry asked.

She smiled. "Fine. I need to find Jean," she said. "Good luck on your results, Harry."

"Thanks," he said, stepping aside to let the woman pass. 

After changing his clothes and making a cup of tea, Harry sat down at his desk with a blank piece of parchment. He thought for a moment about writing Severus, but abandoned the idea in favour of writing Ron and Hermione.

_  
Ron and Hermione,_

_I hope everything is well with you both. It feels like years since I've seen you two. I've been stupidly busy lately as Master Husef decided he wanted me to try and get through my year as an acolyte before Christmas. As such, I've dedicated the last six weeks to learning as much as I possibly could. I took all the final exams on Monday. I hesitate to say I've done well before getting my results, but I think I didn't totally fail. If all goes well, I'll sign my first year apprentice contract in two days._

_I wasn't sure I'd stay past the year, but I think this feels right. I've got a knack for puzzling out spells. I wonder if it's not because we spent so much time with dark objects ... or maybe it's because I was, for all intents and purposes, a dark object. Anyway, Husef says I'm a natural. They're even bending the rules a bit to let me into the tombs. I'm pretty excited to see what that's all about._

_So ... I have a boyfriend._

Harry stared at the words he'd just written. A stupid grin stretched across his face and his heart fluttered about stupidly.

_It's the bloke from the photo. His name is Icarus, and your mum is right. He is a very nice boy. It's a bit complicated because he's part of my team, and relationships between team members are generally frowned upon. I suppose I'm not very good with sticking to the rules._

_I wish I could explain to you what things are like here. I'm still not comfortable with the whole Slytherin way of life, but I'm adapting. My team makes it easier._

_I miss you. I hope you two get a chance to visit soon. Send your parents my regards (both sets). Happy Christmas._

_Love,  
Harry_

_P.S. I got my nipples pierced._

__

Harry laughed as he reread the last line. His hand went to feel the hard metal ring beneath his shirt. He wished he could be there when Hermione read those words, just to see the look on her face.

As he sat in his room he became overwhelmed by a sense of elation. He couldn't recall ever having felt so good. He had a whole day with which to do nothing in particular. At the end of the day, he would see Icarus and be surrounded by his new strange family. 

Not even the thought of Severus could dampen his spirits. Indeed, he almost felt relieved that his relationship with the man had finally been defined. It allowed him to face his beginning with Icarus without mixed emotions in regards to what he was leaving behind. Perhaps it was Fate, after all, that drove him to offer himself to Severus, just so that he might finally know that his path did not lead in that direction.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such a feeling of profound optimism and hope. It was almost unsettling, this feeling of unbridled happiness. The longer he sat examining it, the more restless he became. The more wary he grew that something would come along to spoil it.

He shook off the thought and decided to take advantage of the day. He hadn't yet done any Christmas shopping. He decided to go out and send his letter to Ron and Hermione along with whatever gift he was able to find for them in the market.

He stood and went to collect his rucksack, grunting as he lifted it from the floor. He opened it and pulled out his textbooks, smiling again as he put aside Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. With any luck, he'd never have to use them again. He dug through the bottom, pulling out scraps of mangled parchment, bits of broken quill. 

When he stuck his hand in again, his fingers closed around something small and metal. His hand gripped reflexively as a powerful and warm feeling stole quickly up his arm and curled around his heart. Harry's knees buckled. His eyes slipped shut to find a small glowing statue burning bright behind his eyelids. 

He didn't feel himself hit the ground.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Harry awoke to the sound of a heartbeat that wasn't his own. His head rose and fell as the chest below it inhaled and exhaled. His mind stretched to chase a haunting feeling of the dream he'd just lost. He tried to recall it, but it escaped him completely.

His senses were filled with the scent of lavender and ... well, Severus. But that didn't seem right. Harry lifted his head, looking up to see the man gazing down at him. Severus stroked his arm. "Morning," he said.

"Morning."

Harry relaxed back down, listening to the steady draw of breath. The rhythm of Severus' heart. "You can't be comfortable," he said, realising the man had slept wedged in the corner. He couldn't shake the haunting feeling of déjà-vu.

Severus grunted and tightened his hold around Harry. Harry sighed contentedly. "I had a weird dream."

"About what?"

Harry struggled to chase the evasive images that slipped away every time he looked at them too closely. "I dunno," he said, laughing. "Why are we on the sofa?" He tried to recall finding himself here. He remembered coming to Severus' house. Watching the man sleep in his chair. He had news.

Harry gasped. "I'm going to Egypt."

"What?" Severus asked. "When?"

Harry frowned and sat up to look at the man. "Today," he said uncertainly. Wasn't he going to Egypt? "I'm going to be a curse-breaker," he said, almost sure he was right.

Severus gave him a hard look. "A curse-breaker," the man said. "You are not even qualified to be a curse-breaker."

Harry blinked and struggled to remember. "I told you last night," he said. "Didn't I?"

"Not unless you slipped that bit of information in while I was reeling from the news you were in love with me," Severus said.

Harry grinned. "I am in love with you," he remembered.

Severus smiled and shook his head. "So, you've said," he intoned.

"I think I must have dreamed I was going to Egypt," Harry said. 

"A nightmare," Severus countered, reaching out to wrap his hand around Harry's head. "As if I'd let you go."

Harry gave a cheeky grin. "As if you could stop me," he teased.

"I am a very resourceful wizard, Mr Potter," Severus said, leaning teasingly close.

"Harry," Harry insisted.

"Harry," Severus agreed.

Harry closed the gap, heart thundering as his lips closed over Severus'. Severus pulled him closer, his tongue steeling forward to tap at Harry's, evoking a light moan. Harry shifted to put his knees on either side of Severus' legs, holding the man's head tightly as he snogged the man. 

There was something lingering in the back of his head. A feeling of wrongness. He was supposed to be somewhere. Somewhere else. He dismissed the feeling as a remnant of crazy dreams of Egypt and concentrated instead on the feeling of lips. Of hands that stole under his shirt and stroked up his chest, jostling his nipple rings.

Nipple rings?

Harry broke away, frowning. His hands went to his chest to feel the metal rings dangling there. 

"What's the matter?"

"When did I get my nipples pierced?"

Severus gave him a slightly amused look. "The more important question is why on earth would you get your nipples pierced?"

"Because I passed my tests," Harry remembered. "Raven..."

Who was Raven?

"A raven pierced your nipples?"

"Raven."

An image popped into his head and then disappeared before he could capture it. Harry frowned deeply, his feeling of deep contentment faltering with his confusion.

"You got your nipples pierced on your birthday, remember?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he said worriedly.

Severus gave him a dismayed look. "Never mind," he said. "Go and make us some tea."

Harry made tea, taking a small bit of pleasure in dropping just enough milk in Severus cup before filling the mug with the dark liquid. He plated up the toast with blueberry jam, cut into triangles. It was a silly thing to feel proud of, but it gave Harry a sense of purpose. It made Harry happy to know that Severus was taken care of. To know he was the one taking care of him. 

He grabbed the handles of the mug with one hand and balanced two plates in the other. He faltered at the sound of voices.

_"Harry?!"_

_"Don't touch him!"_

_"Harry?"_

_"Icarus ... go and get Husef."_

_"Oh gods."_

_"Icarus. Go now. Now!"  
_

"If you make two trips, you wouldn't make such a mess," Severus chided gently, waving his wand to pick up the broken plate. And again to clean up the sticky mess of jam. 

Harry blinked at the man. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The voices."

Severus pressed his lips together and gave him a worried look. "Voices."

"Someone was calling my name."

The man sighed and took the two cups of tea from his hand, setting them on the table before going to hold Harry's face. "We've been over this. The voices aren't real."

Of course they'd been over it. Harry remembered now. But they sounded real. The man calling his name sounded like he was in trouble. Harry closed his eyes and let himself be pulled against Severus' chest, wishing the man's embrace were as healing as it sometimes felt. Harry wrapped his arms around the man's neck and raised himself up to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I remember now," he said. "You must get tired of my madness."

Severus smiled. "If you weren't mad, you'd leave me. Who would make me tea?" he joked.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed. "Is that all I'm good for?"

"Shall we find out?" Severus raised an eyebrow and leant down to kiss him deeply, pulling Harry close to him until Harry thought he might melt from the warmth of the man. It didn't take long to forget the voices. Severus had a way of keeping him pinned to the present.

Harry gasped as Severus broke away and bit his lip as the man kissed down Harry's neck. A long-fingered hand slid down his stomach and pressed against his trousers. Harry moaned ecstatically, jerking his hips forward against the pressure.

He found himself suddenly in bed with no recollection of how he got there. Severus kneeled between his parted legs, undoing the buttons of his shirt and looking at him with his most intense gaze. Harry shivered reflexively and tried to will the man's fingers to go faster so that he could feel that smooth, pale skin against his own.

_  
"The dreamlock statue."_

_"How did he get it?"_

_"The more important question is who put it there?"_

_"This cannot be happening."_

_"Niamh, take Icarus to his room."_

_"No. I am not leaving him."_

_"Dude, you can't help him. Not like this."_

_"We have to take him to the hospital. No one can know. Harry has a strong mind, yes? If anyone can beat this, he can."_

_"I'm staying with him."  
_

"Icarus," Harry breathed, his heart clenching inexplicably as the name crossed his lips. He looked over to find Severus poring over their game of chess. 

The man looked up. "Icarus?" he said. "Another foolish boy who didn't do as he was told." He smirked. "Unfortunately, he didn't have your knack for survival."

Harry laughed. His humour was short-lived as his bishop was decapitated by Severus' tricky knight. "Fortunately, my knack for survival doesn't depend on my chess skills," Harry said dismally.

"That is, indeed, fortunate."

Harry stared at the board, trying to decide what to do next. He couldn't concentrate for the low hum of voices that seemed just beyond his hearing. He knew better than to bring them up to Severus, so he did what he could to ignore them. He focussed on the peace of the evening. The warm glow of the fire. 

Home.

A small room flashed before Harry's eyes. He was sure he'd never seen it before, and yet he felt like he belonged there. His trunk sat beneath a high single bed. A desk was pushed against a wall, teeming with books. It looked like a dormitory of sorts. But it wasn't Hogwarts.

"Any day now, Potter."

"Harry," Harry said reflexively and then moved his rook in a half-hearted challenge to Severus' queen.

"You're distracted," Severus said accusingly as he sent his pawn to take out Harry's rook.

"Sorry."

"Voices?"

"No," Harry lied.

"Would you like to go to bed?"

Harry blinked. "With you?" he asked with a smile.

"Unless you normally frequent someone else's bed," Severus said with a raised eyebrow.

There was something wrong, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it. He tried to recall going to bed with Severus, and it wasn't there. His mind felt like a sieve. He couldn't even recall what he'd had for breakfast. 

"We don't go to bed together," Harry said suddenly. "It's not like that."

_  
"Icarus, we found something."_

_"What?"_

_"Dude, don't get too hopeful, okay?"_

_"Show me, Niamh."_

_"It's just an account of someone who survived. She said that she could hear the people around her. That the voices bled into the dreams, but that the dreams themselves tried to distract her from the voices."_

_"Then I keep talking to him."_

_"Husef is still looking for a counter-curse. He's sent for Snape. That's who Harry put down as an emergency contact."_

_"Dude, Snape is a brilliant wizard."_

_"I know. It's fine. If he can help him ..."  
_

"Harry."

Harry opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of Icarus, grinning at him. "Good morning."

The man was haloed by the sun shining through the small window, making him appear to glow golden. "Morning," Harry murmured sleepily. 

The man bent down to kiss him and for the first time ever, Harry gave no thought to how his mouth must taste. He met the languid kiss, curling his fingers in the man's shaggy mane of hair. "You were dreaming," Icarus murmured against his mouth.

"I'm still dreaming," Harry answered with a cheesy grin.

"Is it a good dream?" Icarus asked coyly, bending his head down to take Harry's pierced nipple in his mouth and suckling gently.

Harry gasped. “The best dream," he sighed, letting his mind be drawn into the feel of Icarus' lips leaving a trail of kisses down his torso. The man disappeared beneath the blankets. Harry could hear the low murmurs of voices coming from the corridor outside and knew he had to be careful not to be too vocal in his appreciation of the man's talented mouth.

This man. His boyfriend.

His effort to remain quiet was lost the moment he was enveloped in the warm, wet mouth. A low moan escaped his throat. His hands flew to Icarus' head under the blanket. A tickle of noise, just beyond his hearing, buzzed in his head.

_"Well, it looks like a good dream, at least."_

_"It's not funny, Niamh."_

_"I know. I know it's not funny, Icarus."_

_"You!"_

Harry's eyes snapped open as the sound of Severus' voice penetrated the door. He stopped Icarus' attempt to suck his wits from him as his heart picked up a startled rhythm. "Severus," he breathed.

Icarus emerged from under the blankets with an irritated expression. "It's not polite to say another man's name when you're lying in my bed," he admonished.

But Harry wasn't listening. His ears perked to hear.

_"What have you done to him!"_

_"I –"_

_"Mr Snape!"_

Harry sprang from the bed, uncaring about his state of undress. "He's here."

"Who?"

"Severus!" Harry said, looking around for his clothes. "Can't you hear him?"

"Come back to bed, Harry. No one's here. It's the holidays, remember? What would he be doing here?"

_"Are you happy? Have you seen enough?"_

The sound of Icarus' angry voice clashed violently with Harry's reality. He stared wildly at the man watching him with concern. "Icarus?"

_"Did you hear that? He just said your name."_

_"Harry!"_

_"Get out. Both of you."_

_"No."_

_"Mr Stathakis, I will remove you myself if I have to."_

_"Come on, Icarus. Give him some time. We'll come back later."_

_"But ..."_

_"Go."_

_"Talk to him. He can hear us."_

It couldn't be Icarus' voice out there because the man was staring at him, holding his arms out to welcome him back to bed. Harry frowned and backed away. "Something's not right," he said.

"Come back to bed. I will make you forget," Icarus said with a smile that seemed to make the world dissolve around him. He stepped forward.

_"For fuck's sake, Harry. What have you done this time?"_

The anguish in Severus' voice, the proximity of it arrested his steps. "I'll be right back," he promised before turning to open Icarus' bedroom door.

"I was wondering when you'd come up," growled a rumbling, deep voice from amid the blankets on Severus' bed.

Harry frowned at a feeling that he'd been doing something important. Bringing Severus tea, he remembered, staring down at the tray in his hands. It was Saturday. "You know, you might bring me tea in bed once in awhile," Harry teased as he laid the tray on the bedside table.

"Not nearly so pleasant," Severus said, easing himself up. "And my bed is bigger. And this is your job."

Harry snorted and crawled up to take his seat beside the man.

_"In retrospect, delving into your lover's mind was not the best idea I ever had."_

"What?"

"What?"

"Did you say something?" Harry asked twisting to look at the man.

"I asked how your evening went," Severus said.

"Oh," Harry breathed. He finished pouring the milk before handing the man his tea. "Good, I think," he said, finding he couldn't quite recall what he'd done. "How was yours?"

"Quiet."

"Boring," Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"Those with finely tuned, inquisitive minds are never bored, Mr Potter."

"Harry," he corrected. Endlessly. Someday the man might take the hint.

_"Harry."_

Harry frowned at the man who, he was sure, hadn't said a word. But he'd heard him. 

"You seem distracted."

Harry shook his head. "I keep thinking I'm ... hearing things. Voices."

"That's really not a good sign, you know," Severus said with a mocking smirk.

"I feel like I should be somewhere. Somewhere else. Something's ... wrong here," he said, trying to pinpoint the feeling. His thoughts were like water that slipped from him the moment he concentrated too hard on them.

"I was under the impression that you liked it here," Severus said with a guarded expression.

Harry smiled to reassure him. "I like it here. I don't mean there's something wrong _here._ But ... Dunno, I feel like there's something I'm forgetting. Something important."

_"I should have brought you home. I should have never let you come here in the first place. I thought ... I thought you'd be ... happy."_

"I am," Harry insisted.

"You are what?"

"Happy." Harry frowned at the man.

"I'm glad to hear it."

_"Happy with that foolish boy. With your foolish friends. You needed to be a teenager, Harry. I did what I thought was right."_

"What are you talking about? What boy?"

The man stared at him silently, but his voice continued.

_"I promised her I'd see to your happiness. I tried. If coming to Egypt was going to bring you happiness, I was willing to let you go."_

Egypt. Harry was supposed to be in Egypt.

With Icarus. With Niamh and Raven. He was training to be a curse-breaker. "Where the hell am I?" Harry demanded, suddenly suspicious of the man who looked and acted so much like Severus. A creeping sensation of contentment washed through him, befuddling him as it pressed forcefully against his panicked suspicion. "What's happening to me, Severus?" he choked.

"Stay with me," Severus said, raising his hand to stroke Harry's cheek.

_"You have to come back, Harry. You have to fight this. I can't lose you, too."_

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them to find himself in his sitting room, surrounded by newspapers. He held a pair of scissors in his right hand and searched the article for the names as Severus read a book by the fire. Beyond the quiet, a constant whisper of voices came from the neighbours house next door.

"They must be having a party," Harry said thoughtlessly as he added another slip to his shoebox.

"Who?"

"The neighbours."

"Hm."

Harry picked up the paper and began cutting carefully around the name Raven. He stopped and blinked. "Why am I doing this?" he asked out loud.

"It makes you happy," Severus reminded him.

"Oh." He added the slip to his shoebox. He scanned the words, his eyes landing on "Husef". He pierced a hole through the article and began cutting again. "I thought I stopped," he said absently, trying to remember. A flash of a newsprint-papered room came to his mind. Harry frowned and closed his eyes to try and hold onto it.

The image and his train of thought slipped away like water through a crack. Harry added Husef to his box and went back to scanning for names.

"You need enough names to paper Grimmauld Place, remember? We need to cover the cracks so the dark can't come in," Severus told him.

Now Harry remembered. They needed to cover the darkness. To cover the pain. Severus was going to help him. That's why he'd come back from the dead, after all. Why they both had come back. "We're going to need a lot of names," Harry said grimly. His eyes forcussed on the name Niamh and something tweaked in his head. An image of a ginger girl bent over him with an eyeliner pencil popped into his head. He gave a puzzled smile. "Are these the right names?" he asked.

"Only you can decide that."

Harry's eyes ran over the text, which was an incomprehensible string of letters, before stopping at Icarus.  
"I don't want to cut him out."

"We need to cover the darkness. It's coming through the cracks."

Cracks everywhere, he knew. There had to be names to cover them up. The point of Harry's scissors was poised over Icarus. He glanced up at Severus who watched him from over the top of his book. "I thought we defeated the darkness," he said, puzzled.

"You can never defeat darkness. You can only ever cover it up."

Harry's mouth quirked into a smile. "There's a cheerful thought."

Severus smiled back. "A hero's work is never done."

"Will the names be enough?" Harry stared down. Icarus blazed up at him in bold letters. An indomitable sense of warmth and fondness came over him.

"Who can say? But we must sacrifice for the greater good."

Harry of all people knew that. He would do what was necessary. He couldn't, after all, argue with fate. Harry stabbed through the paper. Tears fell down his cheeks as he cut around the name, trying to ignore the blood.

_"I thought they were supposed to be good dreams."_

_"It might mean he's fighting it. The spell will work against his will. It will learn from his thoughts until he stops struggling."_

_"You think the potion will work?"_

_"At the very least, it will give us an idea of what he's experiencing so we can help us see past it."_

_"I am not sure I want to know what he's dreaming about."_

_"On this, Mr Stathakis, we are in agreement."_

Harry came to consciousness feeling like he'd been asleep for months. He couldn't recall ever feeling so well-rested. Low voices murmured around him, but he was far too comfortable to open his eyes and greet them.

_"He should wake up soon."_

_"Well, in a manner of speaking. How do we even know if the dreamless sleep worked?"_

_"He was peaceful."_

_"You could do with a bit of that too, Dude."_

_"I am fine."_

_"Yeah. Right."_

_"Snape thinks the rest will help him fight."_

_"How do we know if he's woken up?"_

_"He'll talk in his sleep."_

_"Dude, you sure you want to be here for that?"_

_"No. But I will not leave him."_

"Won't leave who?" Harry mumbled, stretching. He opened his eyes and blinked at the sight of a familiar Chudley Cannons Poster.

_"Harry?"_

"You all right, mate?"

Harry yawned and nodded, sitting up. He could smell bacon cooking from downstairs at the Burrow. "I was dreaming."

"About what?"

Harry struggled to remember. After a moment, he shrugged. "No idea."

_"Harry, you need to wake up."_

"What are you on about? I am awake," Harry said, giving Ron a puzzled look.

"Let's go down before Fred and George nick all the bacon," Ron said, bounding from the bed.

Harry's insides clenched inexplicably at the mention of the twins' names, but he clamboured out of bed, following Ron down the stairs. He stopped on the landing as Ginny came out to greet him. "Gin," he breathed with a broad smile.

"Hi, Harry," she said, smiling back. She was as lovely as she'd ever been. Harry's heart swelled with affection. But there was something else. A sense of sadness and loss that he couldn't quite shake.

"You didn't come and see me last night," she said with a small pout.

"You know what Ron's like," Harry said sheepishly. He glanced down the stairs to confirm his friend had gone on without him.

"Come here," she whispered, backing into her bedroom.

Harry followed with a rising sense of panic that he attributed to a fear of Ron finding them. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he sighed to relieve the tension. He buried his face in her hair and drew in the faint scent of strawberries. "I missed you."

_"Ugh."_

_"Who's he with?"_

_"This must be his ex-girlfriend."_

_"Ginny Weasley."_

_"Oh, dear."_

"Do you hear that?"

"It's just the twins," Ginny reassured him, tilting her head back.

Harry shook his head. "There's a girl."

_"He hears us."_

_"Harry. It's Icarus."_

"Icarus."

"He's the one with the wings, right?"

Harry saw a drawing of a man, face raised to the sun, wings disintegrating behind him. "The one with the wings."

_"Keep talking."_

_"Harry, you are under an enchantment. Listen to me. You have to find your way out. You have to come back to me."_

"Come back, Harry," Ginny said with a small smile.

"There's something wrong with me, Gin," Harry said balefully. He shook his head to try and rid it of the voices.

She laughed and kissed him sweetly. She tasted of peppermint. "What could be wrong? Voldemort's dead and we're getting married."

"Married?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I remember," he reassured her with a grin. He leant in to kiss her, but couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was off.

_"Harry, please. You are dreaming. You have to wake up now."_

"Icarus," Harry whispered again and with the name came a sense of urgency. He knew a boy called Icarus, but from where?"

_"That's right. It's me. Icarus. You have to come back to me."_

"I have to go back," he told Ginny.

"Go back where?"

"I don't know," he said worriedly. Why couldn't he remember?

"Harry," Ginny sighed. She stared at him with a look of consternation before nodding. "Okay, but let's have breakfast first."

Harry nodded in agreement.

They entered the kitchen to see the familiar sight of the Weasley clan, chatting away. Fred and George conspired in whispers at the end of the table. Harry stopped suddenly.

"You're dead," he told Fred.

"I came back," Fred reminded him. "We all come back."

Tears sprang to Harry's eyes because he knew it wasn't true. None of this was true, he realised suddenly. He wasn't getting married. Ron didn't even live at the Burrow anymore. And Fred hadn't come back.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're doing it to yourself, mate. Stop fighting."

_"Harry, dude. You have to fight this. I know you can do it. Wake up. Find your way out."_

"I don't know how," he choked, unsure if he was talking to Ron or the voices in his head. "I have to go," he said, turning away from the scene of perfect contentment and heading for the door.

"Harry?"

"Hullo, Mrs Weasley."

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I have to go," he told her, trying to hold strong to that one notion.

"Rubbish," she said, folding her arms around him. "This is where you belong, Harry. Aren't you happy here?"

Harry was happy. Safe and warm in the arms of the only maternal figure he'd ever known, but he knew it couldn't last. He'd left the Burrow. He'd run out.

"I have to go," he said. "I'll be back."

He pulled himself out of her arms and tried not to see her disappointment.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Arthur said, coming in the door Harry was trying to get out of.

Harry frowned up at him. "I'm not sure. Home, I think."

_"Has he woken up?"_

_"He's trying to come back, I think."_

_"Come on, Harry. Don't let them stop you. Come back to me."_

"Come and have breakfast, Harry. Molly's made scones."

Harry shook his head and stared fixedly at his feet. "I'm not hungry. I have to get back."

"Get back to where?"

"To them."

Arthur reached out to clasp his shoulder. "They'll wait."

"Who are they?" Harry asked, trying for the life of him to remember.

_"Harry, it's Severus. You need to fight your way out. Don't let them stop you."_

"Severus."

"Severus? Severus is here, in the kitchen. He's been waiting for you."

"Why would he be here?" Harry said, frowning.

"For the wedding, of course."

"I'm not getting married, Mr Weasley. I'm gay," Harry argued, pulling his wand. "Please move."

Mr Weasley gave him a look of deep disappointment before standing aside. Harry walked resolutely out the door.

"Harry, my boy! Come in!"

"Professor Dumbledore?"

_"Fuck."_

"What brings you here?"

Harry frowned. "I'm not sure. There was something."

"Well, have a rest while you think about it," the man said jovially. "Lemon sherbet?"

"No, thanks," Harry said, staring at the man. He couldn't explain why, but he had the impression he should be surprised to see him. Ridiculous given that he was in the man's office.

_"Harry, Albus Dumbledore is dead. You saw him die. You watched me kill him."_

But Dumbledore wasn't dead. He was right in front of him. He felt something rip inside his chest. He saw a vision of the man lifted up with the power of the curse, pale and lifeless.

"This isn't real."

"I find there are many different realities," Dumbledore answered.

"It's all in my head," Harry told him.

"Does that mean it isn't real?"

Harry smirked. "You said something similar when I died."

"Are you dead, too?"

Harry frowned. "I came back, I think. So did Severus," he remembered. He'd been frightened out of his wits to find the man alive again.

"Why on earth would Severus come back? He had nothing to come back to," Dumbledore pointed out.

Harry thought that was a very good point. Then, he remembered the answer. "Fate."

Dumbledore gave him a searching look over his spectacles. "And was it Fate that brought you here?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I don't remember coming here. I was trying to get somewhere else," he thought.

"Then perhaps it was, indeed, Fate."

Harry looked at the man for a long time. A small, sad smile curled onto his lips. "Professor Dumbledore, you don't believe in Fate."

_"He's fighting. He's lucid."_

_"But the enchantment fights back. It will only form more complex traps next time."_

_"Icarus, there's hope."_

"Icarus." The name glowed in his head. "How can I get out of here, Professor?"

"Where would you like to go, Harry?"

"Home," Harry said.

"To Severus?"

"Severus."

_"I'm here, Harry. Come back."_

"Yes."

"You can use my floo, if you'd like."

"Thank you, sir."

Harry stepped out of the Floo at Spinners End and looked around, feeling like he should have been somewhere else. He tried to recall where he'd just come from, but he couldn't. He stood, puzzled, trying to recall anything at all. He felt as if he'd been obliviated. 

"Harry?"

"Severus," Harry sighed happily. "There's something wrong. I ... I can't remember anything," he told the man. He walked to the kitchen to find the man sitting at the table. Severus summoned a second mug and poured him a cup of tea.

"You remembered your way home," Severus pointed out.

Home. This was his home. He remembered Severus bringing him here, now. He remembered. Harry sat down at the table and inhaled the steam wafting up from his cup. 

_"We can get him to leave the individual dreams. But how can we get him to wake up?"_

_"I don't know."  
_

"I hear things, Severus," Harry said. "Voices."

Severus stared at him a long time. "Ignore them. They'll go away eventually," he said.

"Do you think I'm mad?"

Severus smirked. "That's why I brought you here," he pointed out.

"Oh." Harry frowned. He raised his eyes again. "Can you help me?"

_  
"Harry, listen to me. Listen to my voice. You're not mad. You're under an enchantment. I need to you to fight the enchantment, do you hear me?"  
_

"I'm tired, Severus. I'm tired of fighting."

Severus reached across the table and put his hand against his face. "There's no one left to fight, Harry. You're going to be fine. I'll help you."

_  
"Harry, that is not the real Severus. Severus is here. With me. In Egypt. Remember? You are a curse-breaker, and we need your help to fight this. You need to come back to me. To Icarus."  
_

"Icarus."

"He's another young man who couldn't follow the rules. Unfortunately, he didn't have your knack for survival."

Harry frowned. "You've said that before," he said, his memory hazy and indistinct. 

"I don't recall," Severus said. "But I suppose if we live together long enough, we are bound to repeat ourselves," Severus said.

"I know an Icarus," Harry said.

"He's a myth."

Harry shook his head. "I know him. He –"

_  
"He's your lover."  
_

"What?" Harry looked up to see the man gazing at him fiercely. 

"He's a myth."

"That's not what you said. You said ... He's my lover. He is. He's my ..." Harry smiled. "I have a boyfriend," he confessed.

Severus frowned. "You need to ignore the voices, Harry. You don’t have a boyfriend. You've been living here for months. I would know if you were involved."

"But I remember," Harry said. "I was in Egypt. And you ..." Severus didn't want him. Icarus wanted him. "This isn't real, is it? You're not real. I'm dreaming."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm giving a potion to help you sleep."

The man stood and swept out of the room. "He's going to give me a potion," he told the voices. He had no idea if they were real, but Severus himself was one of those voices.

_  
"Is he talking to us?"_

_"Harry, can you feel my hand?"  
_

Harry looked at his hand. He could feel ... something. Like the memory of pressure against his palm, squeezing gently. "I can feel."

_"Concentrate on that feeling. Try and see it. Open your eyes."_

But his eyes were open. He was staring down at his hand, trying to envision Severus' long-fingered hand in his own. 

"Take this. It will help you sleep."

Harry looked up at the man staring down at him, proffering a phial. "No, thanks," he said sternly. "I feel fine." He stood and stepped around the man. 

Severus put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Please let me help you," he said, pressing his mouth into a thin line.

"But you're not real," Harry said and walked out of the kitchen.

"Dude, you're late."

Harry smiled at the sight of Raven and hoisted his bag off his shoulder. It gave a metallic clang as it landed. Harry stared at it, puzzled. 

"Come on, Harry. We were just about to begin," Icarus said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in a circle with a load of the residents for the dorms. They were here to celebrate his success with his exams, he recalled. He'd passed.

Harry went over and took a seat next to Icarus, leaning in as the man pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Save it for the game," Niamh said, amused.

"I cannot help myself," Icarus said. "He is irresistible."

Harry beamed brightly, feeling a flush of excitement rise to his face.

"Come on, Harry," Meredith told him. "It's your spin."

Harry spun the bottle at the centre of the circle and waited as the narrow opening came to a halt, pointing at Icarus. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Lucky me," Icarus said and leant in to kiss him properly. Harry gave a low moan as the man's lips forced his own open, is tongue stealing forward. 

_"That's not a good sign."_

_"We'll dose him with dreamless sleep again. At the very least it will keep the enchantment from burrowing further."_

_"We made progress."_

_"For every bit of progress we make, the spell learns his mind. When we fail, it grows stronger. Miss Larousse, if you would consent to help me, I would like to do some further research."_

_"Of course."_

_"I presume you'll be staying here."_

_"Yes."_

_"Tell the medi-witch three hours. No more. And then try again."  
_

"Are you all right?"

The voices in his head went quiet. Icarus' voice in his head went quiet. Another Icarus looked at him, eyes full of love and concern. There was something wrong. Something he was forgetting. He felt like he'd lived a thousand lives and he couldn't recall the last time he slept. He couldn't recall coming to the party, or getting his results.

The party itself was strange. None of these people were still in Egypt. Meredith had gone back to visit her family in Canada. Sven was in Sweden. This wasn't real. None of this was real.

"I'm dreaming," he told the man.

"I am dreaming, too."

The crowd melted away, and only Harry and Icarus remained. "That wasn't my party," Harry said, mouth forming a grim line of determination. "We had my party," he told himself. "It was you, Raven and Niamh and me. Niamh put make up on me. I got my nipples pierced. I remember."

Icarus gave him a sad smile. "Do I not make you happy?"

Harry had the distinct feeling of being cradled. A ghostly warmth pressed against his back. And arm held him tightly.

_"We woke up in the morning and took a shower. You agreed to be my boyfriend, yes? You made me so happy. Niamh, Raven and I went to the tombs. What happened to you?"_

The Icarus in front of him leant in to kiss him. A pair of invisible lips pressed against Harry's neck. Harry closed his eyes to concentrate on the feeling. He closed his eyes to remember.

"I went back to the dorms. I wrote a letter to Ron and Hermione," he recalled. He remembered elation. A heady sort of happiness that could only ever be fleeting. "I was going to go Christmas shopping."

"Come to bed with me," Icarus bade, pulling him up.

"You're not real," Harry told the man. "None of this is real."

_"That's right, Harry. Fight them. Do not let them keep you. Do not let them take you away."_

Harry pulled away from the image of Icarus and sat down against the sofa, wrapping his arms around his chest. He looked around to see the ghostly figures of Niamh, Raven and Icarus watching him carefully.

_"You were going to go Christmas shopping. But there was something in your rucksack. Do you remember?"_

The feeling of warmth became more solid. Harry thought he could feel the rhythm of breathing against his back. A faint heartbeat.

"It was the statue," Harry told his audience. He told the Icarus in his head. "The one you showed me in the detection lesson."

_"How did you get the statue?"_

Harry frowned. He searched his memory to try and find an explanation. He'd not seen the statue since Icarus had shown it to him in that lesson. "I don't know."

_"Was there anyone in the dorms?_

"Everyone was out. They'd gone diving," Harry recalled. A tickle of memory so faint he could scarcely grab hold of it. "Jean," he murmured.

_"Jean was with the others, Harry."_

"But ..."

The figures around him were growing more distinct now and coming toward him. Icarus slid over, warming him from behind as Raven knelt in front of him.

"Dude, are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Harry asked with a smile.

Raven grinned in response and tugged his shirt over his head. Icarus' hands took advantage of the newly exposed skin and ran over Harry's chest, plucking at the rings in his nipples. Harry laughed breathily.

_"Stay with me, Harry."_

"Stay with me, Harry," Icarus breathed against his ear. Raven's lip ring dragged teasingly up his neck. 

"I'm here," Harry whispered, hand sliding along the stubbly back of Raven's head. Icarus' hands were at his trousers, plucking expertly at the button at the waist.

_"You went back to the dorms. Did you see Jean?"_

A hand wrapped around his cock. Raven's mouth toyed with his nipples, biting softly against the metal-skewered flesh. "God," Harry breathed.

_"No, Harry. Stay with me. You're dreaming._

The urgency in Icarus' voice played tug-of-war with his attention. The hand on his cock stroked. The warmth of Raven's breath puffed over the tip. "God, please."

Suddenly a shooting pain blossomed in his chest, causing Harry to tense up. "Ouch," he complained and for a second his reality shifted again. The figures around him grew faint.

_"Jean. Did Jean put the statue in your bag, Harry?"_

"What statue?" Harry said irritably.

_"You went to the dorms. You were going Christmas shopping. You were emptying your rucksack and the dreamlock statue was in it._

"I was happy," Harry remembered. 

_"Where did the statue come from? Who was in the dorms?"_

"No one," Harry said. "Lisa."

_"Lisa was there?"_

"She was looking for Jean," Harry said, trying to concentrate on the voice. 

Raven's mouth wrapped around him. Harry felt his balls tighten as the man sucked hard. Harry's hand grabbed at the lock of hair hanging down to tickle his abdomen. His breathing quickened.

_"I am going to give you a potion, Harry. It will make you sleep. It will make you strong."_

Harry could scarcely hear the voice. He raised his hand to pull Icarus toward him, kissing him as Raven's mouth conspired to bring him to pleasure. Icarus' tongue tasted faintly of anis. It had a familiar flavour that made him think of the Hogwarts Infirmary. It made him think of green and Severus.

His world went dark.

He awoke to the feeling of being held. An arm curled tightly around his front. The skin tensed at the back of his neck as a soft cloud of breath blew against it. He smiled softly to himself, deciding he wanted to wake up like this every day. A deep feeling of contentment grew inside him. He reached back.

He felt nothing.

Harry opened his eyes to find himself in his dorm room at Gringotts. He twisted around to identify the source of the warmth, but he was alone. His skin tensed as another breath blew across it, but there was nothing there. It didn't make sense. Harry sat up and looked around. On his desk, he spied a faint shimmer of gold.

He recognised the statue from his lesson with Icarus. The most dangerous of four objects. It locked people in their happiest dreams, he recalled. Even the light can be treacherous. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the magic. He could feel it filling his room. The gentle pull. The promise of bliss radiated from the breast of the featureless woman. Harry could see the tendrils of magic reaching out toward him, calling to him. They wrapped around his heart, forming a web of gold that branched up into his mind, tying the two together.

He focussed on the magic, fascinated by the thin, silky strands. A spider's web of magic. Some of those strands had been severed, he could see now. It concerned him the way the swayed as though taken in a magical wind, and strived to come together. They aspired to be strong. Harry wanted them to be strong.

_"Well, isn't this cozy?"_

Harry's eyes snapped open, searching for the source of the disdainful voice. Severus' voice.

_"What is your problem, Snape? You did not want him."_

The invisible arm tightened its hold. Harry moved his hand to stroke it. He heard a faint gasp.

_"Harry?"_

"Why can't I see you?"

_"I am here. You can feel me?"_

"I can feel you. Is it a Disillusionment spell?" Harry said with a smile. He stroked up the firm arm and wove his fingers between Icarus' invisible ones.

He felt a kiss against his neck and turned to see the other man smiling at him playfully. 

"There you are," he said. "That was weird."

_"No Harry. That is not me. That is a dream."_

The words came, but Icarus' mouth didn't move.

_"You are locked in dreams, Harry. Remember? The statue."_

Harry frowned and looked over at the desk. At the small, thin featureless woman glimmering in the low light of the room. "I see it."

_"The statue?"_

"Who are you talking to?" Icarus asked, rolling him over to stare at the ceiling. The man settled on top of him, holding his head gently.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Did you say something?"

Icarus grinned and dipped his head down to kiss Harry's eyes. His cheeks. His chin. "I said I want to make love to you," he whispered.

_"Harry, the statue. Can you see it?"_

"Severus?"

A slice of panic sheared through him at the sound of the man's voice. Harry pushed Icarus off of him and stared into the dim room. He hung himself over the side of the bed to look underneath. Severus sat on his trunk, reading a book. "Can you see it?"

"Yes. It's on my desk," Harry said. "What are you doing under my bed?" he asked with a faintly amused expression.

_"I am not under your bed, Harry. I'm in a hospital in Cairo. You have been enchanted. Icarus is here with me. You want to see him, don't you?"_

"But he's here," Harry said, turning to see the man.

_"You left me two days ago. I went to work, remember? You went to the dorms. You saw Lisa. The statue was hidden in your rucksack."_

Harry blinked. He looked at the smiling figure of his lover lying next to him. He looked at the statue on his desk. The magic spilling out of it, ensnaring his heart. The delicate tendrils drifting in the wind, begging to be sewn back together. As Harry stared, the faintest little ping sounded. Another strand broke.

"What do I have to do?"

Icarus urged him gently back to the bed. "You don't need to do anything," he said, stroking his face. "Let me give you pleasure." The man's hand reached under the covers and closed over his flaccid cock.

_"Focus and fight, Potter. The dreams will offer you what you want. Do not lose focus. They are not real."_

Harry's knees bent upward as Icarus' hand went down to cup his balls, rolling them gently. "Will it hurt?" he asked.

"I will never hurt you," Icarus said solemnly.

A sharp pain, like someone taking his nipple and twisting cruelly, bloomed in his chest, tearing his mind away.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped, jerking away from the man.

_"He can feel it?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Focus, Harry."  
_

"I am focused," Harry said angrily, rubbing at his abused nipple.

Severus came to the side of his bed and moved his hand to stroke over the pierced flesh. "You'll learn to like it."

"Not bloody likely," Harry said irritably.

_"Do it again."_

A sharper, more violent streak of pain spread from his nippled. "Fucking ouch. Stop doing that," Harry said angrily.

Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Baby steps, Harry," Niamh said from behind him. 

Her fingernails grazed up over his stomach and scratched lightly at the other nipple. Harry shivered. "That's better," he told her with a grin. She took it between her fingers and twisted harshly.

"Niamh, that fucking hurts."

_"It isn't Niamh, Harry. It is Icarus. Pay attention to me."_

Harry blinked once and Icarus' face came into focus. He frowned. "We shouldn't be doing this in front of Severus," he said.

"He doesn't care," Icarus said. 

"You don't care?" Harry twisted around to see Severus watching with a faint smirk. 

_"I care."_

_"I do not like where this is going."  
_

"I care," Severus told him. "I want to see you happy. I want to see you ecstatic."

Icarus' fingertips traced circles around Harry's nipples. Harry grabbed his wrist. "This isn't right," he told him. "I can't do this. I don't want to do this."

"It's his Christmas gift, remember?" Icarus breathed. "I will take your virginity, and we will offer it to him. It's what he wanted."

Right. Now he remembered. They'd talked about it. "I remember," Harry said, smiling at Severus. "We wanted you to have it."

Another pinch at his chest pulled a gasp from him. It hurt, but the pain was infused with excitement. Icarus' mouth was on his neck. His hardness pressed against his hip. "Tell me you want me," the man said, sliding over to lie between Harry's thighs.

"I want you."

_"For fuck's sake."_

Harry's eyes snapped over to Severus, who stared intently at the scene unfolding. The side of his face was coloured gold from the statue on Harry's desk. "That's not supposed to be here," Harry's realised. "Icarus, you need to take the statue back to Husef. Someone might get hurt."

_"The statue is not there, Harry. It is in you. It has you under its spell. Please try and remember."_

"I can see the magic," Harry breathed. "Do you see it, Icarus? Isn't it beautiful?"

_"The magic has trapped you, Harry. We must undo it. Can you tell me how to undo it?"_

_"Don't be ridiculous."_

_"He has done it before."_

_"The spell will not let him undo it."_

Harry felt slightly panicked at the idea of undoing the magic. It seemed so inherently wrong to him. "We need to heal it," he argued. "The strands are breaking. We need to sew them together."

_"No. It's the enchantment, Harry. Remember what I told you in the detection lesson. It is offering you a beautiful, happy death."_

"I don't want to die," Harry breathed. He looked at Severus. "Can you help me?"

Severus smiled and put his hand against Harry's face. "That is what I'm here for."

_"Can you break the strands, Harry?"_

Harry turned his head toward Icarus. "Why would I do that? If I break the strands, my head will float away. Can't you see?" 

"I see. We will heal them together," Icarus said. "If you let me love you, we can heal it. Surrender to me, Harry."

_"Harry, the strands need to be rewoven. We need to break through them so we can put them together again. Can you do that?"_

Harry turned to Severus. Normally, he'd never argue with Severus about magic, but it felt wrong to him. "Severus, we can't. The strands are holding my mind together," Harry argued.

Something about what he said struck Harry as strange. He concentrated again on the magic. On the gossamer strings attached to his mind, anchoring it to his heart. 

_"It will free your mind, Harry. What do you remember about the statue?"_

Harry looked at the statue again, recalling seeing it under glass. "It is dangerous," he remembered. But it didn't feel dangerous to him. How could something so beautiful be dangerous?

_"What does it do?"_

"It traps you in your dreams," Harry remembered. He looked at Icarus again. At Severus. It suddenly occurred to him how strange it was to have Severus here while he was naked in bed with Icarus. Severus didn't even appear particularly angry. "This isn't real."

_"The statue has you trapped in your dreams, Harry. You need to break the magic."_

"Harry. You're not well. I'm taking you home."

"Home?" Harry said. "But you wanted me to stay here."

A sharp slap to his cheek was more surprising then painful. "Oi!"

_"You did not have to do that!"_

_"Have you got any better ideas? Harry, can you see the magic?"  
_

"Yes. I see it."

_"I need you to close your eyes, Harry. Ignore whoever else is in the room with you. Search for that magic. Can you see it?"_

"I see it."

_"Have you got your magic scissors?"_

"Magic scissors?" Harry asked, puzzled. But of course. Of course he had them. Harry slid down off the bed and went to his drawer to take out the slender, silver scissors. "I have them."

_"Good. Good boy. Now I need you to cut those strands, Harry. Sever them."_

"But ..." 

Severus came behind him, arm stroking down Harry's. His hand clasped around Harry's wrist. "Put the scissors down, Harry. You don't need them anymore."

"But you said to cut."

_"Cut, Harry. Cut the strands. Do not listen to anyone in the room with you. Just my voice. Follow my voice."_

"Put the scissors down, Harry," Icarus said, sliding between him and the desk. "You stopped cutting, remember? We don't need to cut anymore. Come back to bed with me."

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

_"Focus on the magic, Harry. Remember when you were under the Imperius curse. Remember how badly you wanted to obey the Dark Lord? But you didn't. You were stronger than he was. You are stronger than this. Cut the strands. Come back to us."_

Harry pulled his hand out of Severus' grasp. He focussed on the magic. On the silky strings binding his heart and mind. They looked so delicate and beautiful. They begged for healing. He knew if he brought them together, he could be happy forever.

But who is happy forever? And why would anyone want to be?

Harry opened the blades around over the strand, fitting it into the v-shape. He took a deep breath and squeezed. A sound like an out of tune guitar string filled his head.

"You'll kill me," Icarus told him.

Harry opened his eyes to see the man's eyes shining with unshed tears. "How can you die if I cut the strings of my own heart?" he asked.

_"No one will die, Harry. Don't listen to them. Cut. Cut quickly."_

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and cut another and another until he became aware of arms cradling him, holding him tightly. He cut another and felt the chill of the air across his face. He smelled antiseptic and hospital. He cut another, his heart racing as he was torn between compulsive desperation to repair all the severed strings, and blind faith in the voices in his head.

One string remained. He opened his eyes to find himself alone. The dimly lit dorm room seemed to be superimposed on a different room he'd never seen before. Strange machines surrounded him. Severus sat watching a foot away. Strong arms held him tight. Harry cut the last string and surrendered to blackness.

**  
"It is his choice."

"I will not leave him here to be destroyed. If you loved him, you'd want him to be safe."

"That is not fair!" 

"Gods, will you two give it a rest? Fucking hell," Niamh shouted. "At least go and have your pissing contests somewhere else."

Harry opened an eye to see the red-head sitting in a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her fingers twisted a curly strand of hair. 

He felt weak as though he'd not eaten for days. His head was stuffed with cotton wool, and his mouth was made of the same stuff. He closed his eyes again, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a bed, but it wasn't his own. It wasn't Icarus', nor was it Raven's. A faint, rhythmic beep sounded in the background. 

"I'm taking him back to Britain."

Severus' voice cut through the stuffing in his brain, resonating there as distinctly out of place. What was Severus doing in Egypt? He'd left, Harry remembered. He was in America.

"It is his choice. You are not his father."

"Get out. Both of you."

"Miss Larousse, you have no authority here."

"With all due respect, sir, neither do you," Niamh said angrily.

"Why are you fighting?" Harry croaked.

The room went quiet. "Harry?" Icarus' voice sounded wary and desperate. Suddenly cold hands pressed against Harry's face. 

Harry opened his eyes. The man's elated grin brought a smile to his face. "Where are we?" he asked.

His question was completely disregarded. Instead, he was pulled into a crushing embrace. He scarcely had the strength to lift his arms. "Icarus. You're going to kill me," he wheezed.

"Give him space," Severus barked, startling Harry. Harry shifted his eyes to see the man looming behind Icarus, watching Harry with an indescribable expression. 

Suddenly, Harry recalled the last time he'd seen the man. His face flushed with remembered humiliation. "What are you doing here?" he asked as Icarus released him to lie back against the bed.

"Saving you. What else would I be doing here?" Severus said. 

"He saved himself," Icarus said firmly.

A look of pure loathing flashed in Severus' eyes. Icarus gazed back with angry defiance. Harry frowned. "What the hell is going on?" he said.

"Welcome to my world," Niamh said darkly, coming to perch on the other side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my body has been used to power Cairo," Harry said. "What happened?"

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Harry frowned. "I don't know," he said.

"Do you remember the party at Raven's?" Niamh asked.

Harry thought. He recalled ... something. "Did you put make up on me?" he asked. His hand went up to his head, which suddenly felt a bit lighter without the mane of unruly hair. 

"Yeah," Niamh grinned.

Harry ran his hand over his chest, feeling the hard metal ring. His eyes darted nervously to Severus. And then to Icarus, who smiled at him. "I have a matching set," Icarus said grinning.

"Yours are blue," Harry pointed out.

Icarus reached out to push a long lock of hair from Harry's forehead. "Do you remember waking up?"

Harry closed his eyes. He remembered waking up in Icarus' arms. In Raven's bed. He remembered the shower that followed. He remembered. "I remember," Harry said meeting the man's eyes. 

His eyes darted again to Severus. The vein in the man's temple was visible. That was a bad sign. Harry's smile disappeared. "You went to work in the tombs. I went back to the dorms. What day is it?"

"Friday," Severus said. "You were cursed. Someone put a statue in your rucksack," he told him. "Someone tried to kill you."

As the man spoke, Harry remembered. He remembered pulling everything out of his bag. He remembered the feel of metal. The warmth spreading through him. He remembered kissing Severus. Severus taking him to bed. Icarus. He remembered Ginny. He remembered cutting his heart out.

A flood of images rushed through him. Memories that were not his own. Scenes that never happened. 

"Was it Lisa?"

Niamh's gaze darkened. "We don't know. She has no recollection of being in the dorms. Husef insisted on giving her veritaserum, but it doesn't look good."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I dreamed it," he said.

"Maybe. Or maybe she's had her memory wiped. Müller's under formal investigation anyway," Niamh told him.

"Did my results come in?" Harry asked.

"You passed everything," Icarus informed him with a grin. "You got an O in Ancient Runes."

"Really? And Arithmancy?"

"Harry, I'd like to speak to you alone," Severus said firmly.

"An S," Icarus said, ignoring the older man. 

The tension between the two was volatile. Harry could see the barely restrained rage in the older man's expression. It was aimed directly at Icarus. "Can you give us a minute?" Harry said with a wary glance at Severus. He turned his eyes to Icarus and gave the man a reassuring smile. "Just a minute, okay?"

"Come on, Icarus. We'll go and get him something to eat," Niamh said. "We'll come right back."

Icarus didn't look happy about leaving. Harry wondered how long he'd been sat in this room waiting for him to wake up. He looked like he'd not slept for weeks. His jaw was dark with stubble. His hair was lank as though he'd not washed it recently. It was held back by a cloth headband.

His expression softened when he turned back to Harry. He bent down to kiss Harry softly on the forehead. "I'll be right back," he said quietly.

"Okay," Harry said, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the death glare that he knew Severus was giving. It made him feel vaguely irritated. Severus didn't want him. Was he supposed to isolate himself and pine for the rest of his life?

When Niamh and Icarus left the room, Severus sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at Harry. Harry gave him a look. "Would it kill you to be kind to him?" he chided. 

Severus' gaze hardened. "The very fact that boy is capable of walking out of here proves that I am capable of restraint," he said, clipping every syllable.

"It's not like this was his fault," Harry argued. 

"I don't wish to discuss it. I do wish to discuss your future. I want you to come home," Severus said.

Harry could have guessed that would be the topic of conversation. "Home," he repeated.

"To Britain."

"What about my training?"

"There are programs in Britain, if you wish to pursue a career with Gringotts."

"Office work," Harry said. "I don't want to be a banker, Severus."

"Of course you don't. Why would you want a career where you're not risking your neck every bloody day?" Severus growled.

Harry stared at him in dismay. His brain felt scrambled and his thoughts slow. "Severus, I've worked hard to be here," he said quietly. "What do you expect me to do in Britain?"

"Anything else," Severus said, his gaze intense with determination. 

Harry frowned. "There's nothing for me there."

"I did not come back from the dead to let you get yourself killed, Potter. You're coming home with me."

Harry's eyes widened. "Why did you come back?" he asked.

"What?"

"You didn't come back to let me get myself killed. But you came back. Why?" Harry's heart pounded. He'd been trying to get this answer from the man for the better part of two years. The man had held fast to the story that he'd not died at all. 

Severus averted his eyes. "It's not relevant. I misspoke."

"Bollocks."

"Come home with me."

"Why? So you can take care of me? Because I'm not able to take care of myself?"

Severus bared his teeth into a snarl. "Look around you, Potter. Look where you are. Does it look like you're capable of taking care of yourself?"

Harry couldn't breathe for the rage rising within him. Indignation burned his insides. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he seethed.

"How fickle the hearts of boys," Severus snarled, standing. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Harry croaked, his voice breaking under the strain of emotion. 

"I'm through, Potter. I've dedicated enough of my life to keeping your arse safe, and I do not intend to do it anymore. If you want to risk your neck for some foolish infatuation, don't count on me to bail you out again."

"You think that's why I'm staying?" Harry shouted, trying to sit up and failing. "I tried to come back, Severus. Remember? A week ago you were still trying to convince me to stick with this."

"That was before someone tried to murder you, you stupid boy!"

Harry panted from the effort of maintaining his anger. He simply didn't have the energy to fight him. "I worked hard to be here," he repeated quietly. "I've earned my place here. I am not staying for Icarus. I'm staying for me. If that means I lose you, then I suppose I never really had you to begin with."

"Harry," the man said in a tight voice, "you're being unreasonable."

"You're being unreasonable," Harry insisted. "Someone's always trying to kill me, Severus. That won't change in Britain. You can't keep me safe forever. If I go back there, it will be as good as dying."

"That's absurd," Severus spat. "You can do other things. You can work for me."

"I don't want to work for you!" Harry shouted. "I'm good at this, Severus. I like doing what I'm doing. And I like being around people who don't give a damn about the tragedy of my life. Who don't treat me like I'm fucking mental or need to be fixed!"

"Harry, if you don't come back with me –"

"What? You'll never talk to me again? If I don't do what you say, you won't be my friend? You'll abandon me?"

Severus' eyes narrowed. His mouth pressed into a thin line. Harry could see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

"Thank you for coming. I'm sorry you got called from your meetings. It won't happen again," Harry said in a cold tone that told nothing of the wreckage going on inside him. It was best, he thought. This relationship had served its purpose. He knew where his place was, and it wasn't with Severus.

Severus turned away before Harry could read the expression in his face. His dark form stalked toward the door, which slammed shut behind him. Harry stared at it a long time, unaware of the tears spilling down his cheeks. His mind was rather concentrated on trying to hold his heart together. At length he rolled over onto his side, shoved his face in the pillow and surrendered to his grief.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Harry said, looking down at the purple outline of a drawing impressed against his ribs. He glanced over to see the same figure, fly diagonally across Raven's chest, its white wings disintegrating as it flew, disappearing over his right shoulder. It reappeared again on his ribs, wings intact. 

He glanced to see a very pale Icarus, clenching his jaw as a woman ran the needle around the outline. It had been Niamh's idea and her own creation. A way to mark the end of Harry's first year and her own second year. Icarus had failed his third year examination. Given Husef's enthusiasm about his failure and Icarus' distinct lack of concern, Harry surmised that it was deliberate.

When he'd asked, Icarus grinned and shrugged. "Call it Fate," he said.

Raven would take Zhan's place as first assistant. Malika would replace him as second. Zhan was awarded the spot vacated by Müller, who had been forced out. While no one was able to prove his involvement in the attempt on Harry's life, the Goblins decided it was more prudent to relocate Müller, which may have had something to do with the letter Harry wrote to the head of the bank, threatening to tell his story to the press.

Michel had defected to Winter, but they were able to convince Susan to join them. Husef expected a full load of acolytes in the fall, given the number of applications the school had received, and they would be on the lookout for anyone bright enough to push through to the first year.

Harry bit his lip as the man rested poised the gun over his ribs.

"You sure you don't want the spell?" Raven said, amused.

"No."

"Be brave, Harry. It's just a little pain," Niamh said.

The tattoo artist grinned at him. His front four teeth on the top were gold. Harry shut his eyes against the creepy sight and nodded.

It was not just a little pain. It was agony. The needle tore across the skin, below which was only bone, leaving a fiery outline in its wake. Every now and again, the man would grumble, "Breathe," and on cue, Harry did. By the time the tattoo was finished, Harry had come close to fainting three times and had to be revived by sickeningly sweet hot tea. At length the man dabbed a white cloth against the bleeding skin. The sting of the antiseptic added another layer of pain.

Harry groaned in relief when he felt the healing charm sizzle over him. His entire body began to tremble from shock. He opened his eyes. 

"You are ready?" the tattoo artist said with a gold grin.

"Yes," Harry answered.

A wave of the man's wand set the bird flying, flapping disproportionately large wings to set off toward Harry's left shoulder. The wings slowly melted, leaving a trail of waxy droplets behind him. The bolt of lightning held in its claws flashed gold as if reflecting the sun. The leaves of the clover clutched in its beak fluttered as though caught in the wind. Harry grinned. 

"What do you think?" Icarus asked.

"It's perfect." A perfect representation of his life here. Of what was important. While he was fond of every member of his team, even the traitor Michel, the three who were with him now made up the core of his life. They were his friends. His family. He didn't like to think what would happen when Raven graduated next year, or when Icarus and Niamh inevitably left him behind. He supposed he would find out when that happened. But permanently etched onto his skin was the pictorial representation of happiness, however fleeting it might prove to be.

The evening brought some relief to the heat provided by the May sun as they crossed the market to get to the Wizarding entrance of the Centre. A banner strung across the Entrance Hall welcomed them to the International Alchemical Conference. 

Harry's stomach lurched nervously, his eyes cast around the small groups of people littered around the hall. He'd not heard from Severus. He'd not expected to, and, if he was honest, he didn't want to. He kept tabs on him as best as he could. He knew the man was hard at work. He knew the man was dating. He knew for a fact that Severus was still keeping track of him. Their information came from the same source, after all. If Master Winter was annoyed to be an intermediary, she didn't let it show.

There was a spot in his heart that was dedicated to the man. Harry didn't expect that would ever change. But he had a life and he owed it to himself, and to all those who had protected it, to live that life. For the first time since the fall of Voldemort, Harry felt a sense of purpose. A sense of belonging. His destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Niamh's hand found his and squeezed. She offered a small smile.

"You can go and see him, you know," Icarus said, his arm sliding around Harry's waist.

"I know," Harry said quietly. The four rounded a corner and took the corridor that would lead them to the Apparition well. He could go and find the man just as easily as Severus could come to him. Harry thought that if the man sought him out, he'd be happy to talk to him. But Severus wouldn't come to him, and Harry had little to say that wouldn't end in argument.

"So are we going to my place?" Raven said, slowing to a stop in front of the Apparition well.

Harry and Icarus glanced at each other. "Not tonight," Icarus said. 

"Come on, dude. We're celebrating," Raven said with an entreating grin.

Harry thought Icarus' grin was far too easily interpreted. He groaned inwardly. "Harry and I have plans," the man said.

"Ugh. Finally," Niamh sighed.

Raven laughed. "Come on. I was looking forward to having it happen in my bed. It would be a first," he said.

Harry gave him a level look. "Not a chance," he said. 

"So it's a party at the dorms, then," Niamh said.

"We will lock the door," Icarus assured him.

"And ward them," Harry agreed.

"And set a curse against eavesdropping," Icarus grinned.

"Anyone would think you two didn't want us around," Raven said, feigning hurt.

"Not this time, my friend," Icarus said, clapping the man on the back.

They apparated back to the dorms and joined the others for dinner. Harry couldn't eat much for the stirring of nervous excitement within him. They'd put this off for months. The weeks following Harry's release from hospital had been difficult for both men. Harry had been plagued with vivid sexual dreams and, owing to the lingering effects of the potions Severus had dosed him with, Icarus had been forced to share the experience. Eventually, Harry had insisted on staying in separate rooms until the effects wore off. 

Icarus had been more understanding than Harry thought he would have been if the situation were reversed. Despite the man's brave, reassuring facade, Harry knew he was hurt by the experience. Harry tortured himself with guilt over the visions his mind would conjure at night. By the time the dreams waned, Harry had lost any desire to be touched.

The two men started over. Icarus had been absurdly patient with him. He would go to Raven to alleviate his own needs, and eventually convinced Harry to bear witness. It had been a slow progression, but Harry was at a point again where he could be touched without the flood of images born of cursed dreams. Once more, he actively sought pleasure and sought to pleasure his generous lover. Tonight would be the culmination of their efforts to put what happened over Christmas behind them.

The two men sat in the common room with the others. Harry was nestled between Icarus' legs on the edge of the sofa. Icarus' arms curled around him, his chin rested on Harry's shoulder as they briefly joined the others in celebration of the end of the academic year. Most of them would stay on during the summer to do bank business, but without the pressure of classes and studying, the rhythm of life would slow to an almost enjoyable pace. Harry found himself looking forward to August when, together with Niamh and Raven, Icarus and he would rent a holiday flat in the village where Icarus had spent his childhood. Ron and Hermione planned to join them.

Harry wondered what they would think of his new brazen friends. The idea gave him a small amount of anxiety. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be at least as shocked as he had been by their utter lack of discretion. Harry had had months to have his natural sense of modesty worn away. 

It was a challenge he'd meet when the time came. He planned to warn them ahead of time what to expect, but he was looking foward to having the five most important people in the world to him in one place. It was months off. Tonight, he had another monumental moment to think about.

"Who's up for Turth or Dare?" Astrid asked, giving the group a wolfish grin.

Icarus grabbed Harry's hand and flashed him a quizzical look. Harry swallowed back his apprehension and nodded, letting himself be pulled up. As Harry stood, Raven tugged on his fingers from his seat on the floor. "Close your eyes and think of England," the man said in a stage whisper.

Harry laughed and kicked the man playfully. Icarus took his hand and led him away, down the corridor to his room. In a few short weeks, it would be a room they shared. Harry would forfeit his own room to the new arrivals that were due in September. As Icarus wasn't leaving the programme as originally planned, Harry would room with him. It was hardly a sacrifice, given that the two men never slept apart anyway.

Icarus pushed through the door, with Harry close behind him. The door was closed and duly locked and warded. Harry erected a silencing spell and met Icarus' eyes with a slightly uncertain smile.

"I love you," Icarus told him, stepping toward him and pushing him gently against the wall.

Harry folded his arms around the man's neck. "I love you, too," he said, feeling his heart tug with the depth of sincerity of those words. He'd never believed he would feel anything this powerful again. After Ginny, he'd imagined he would live his life alone, fostering an unrequited infatuation for Severus Snape. Those days seemed now a vague memory, shadowed by the bright light of the present.

Icarus kissed him softly on the lips and looked right into his eyes. "You are sure you want to do this? I can wait."

Harry laughed incredulously. "Seriously? Because I don't think I can," he said, grinning. He kissed the man with the same careful brush of lips. "Are you sure?"

Icarus' laid his hand on Harry's cheek, kissing him earnestly now until Harry forgot he'd asked a question at all. When he broke away, he pressed his forehead to Harry's. "I think I am more nervous tonight, than I was my first time," he confessed softly. "I do not want to hurt you."

A little pain was inevitable, Harry knew. They had discussed this at length. He also knew that a certain amount of pain would always be inevitable. He had seen it in Icarus' face when Raven entered him. The brief moment of pain that preceded the pleasure. But the pleasure had translated into such beauty that Harry felt emboldened by it. 

"I trust you," Harry whispered, reaching down to tug the hem of his t-shirt over his head. Icarus' eyes dropped to his torso, his fingers following the trail of the tattooed Raven with wax wings. Harry shed his trousers, eager now to do what they were here to do. As he toed off his socks, Icarus pulled the white vest he wore over his head and pushed down his loose linen trousers. 

Icarus held his wand in his hands. "I'm going to do the spell," he said, referring to the evacuation spell he'd told Harry about. Harry knew that it wasn't strictly necessary, but Icarus wanted to appease Harry's reservations in regards to sex between men. "This will feel a little strange," he said.

Harry nodded and watched as Icarus' wand flicked toward his bowels. A warm feeling flooded his insides, followed by a distinct emptiness. Harry swore his stomach sank in further. "Weird," Harry breathed.

Icarus laughed and tossed his wand back to the bed before tugging Harry toward him. His hands slipped under the waistband of Harry's pants and pushed them to pool at Harry's ankles. Harry offered the same service to the other man as Icarus kissed him deeply. The power of those lips hadn't lost their potency, even after the countless times they'd met Harry's. Harry found himself swept up and away into the headiness the kiss inspired. His cock was trapped against his belly, right beside Icarus' as Icarus held him by his arse, keeping him close.

Slowly, Icarus backed up, never breaking contact. He eased Harry onto the bed, settling between Harry's thighs and pressing his hips insistently against Harry's as he lay his body against the younger man's. This was familiar. This, Harry knew. The bruising pleasure of rubbing against the man, rutting to completion.

By the time Icarus broke the kiss, Harry was panting and quite ready to get on with things. The man slid downward, pressing his hard stomach deliberately against Harry's turgid cock. Harry moaned and arched up into the attention Icarus paid his nipples. The man tongued the hard nubs playfully. He tugged at the metallic green rings with his teeth as his finger followed the eternal flight path of the tattooed bird.

As Icarus continued his inexorable descent, mouthing his way down Harry's belly, Harry moaned plaintively. "Icarus. I can't wait anymore." His stomach had been swirling with a heady mix of nerves and arousal for the better part of two days, and just now he felt he might explode.

Icarus' breathy laugh clouded against Harry's abdomen. He spoke softly, punctuating every sentence with a kiss or a nip to the skin of Harry's belly. "Tomorrow, my love, I will fuck you." The man's words did devastating things to Harry's insides, which rallied enthusiastically for the man to do just that. "But tonight, I will make love to you. Slowly. Properly." As he finshed, his tongue tapped against the tip of Harry's cock where it lay on his belly. "And many years from now, when you remember, you will know how much I loved you."

Harry whimpered a little when Icarus's hand curled over his cock. He knew how important this was to the other man. While Harry viewed his virginity as yet another fear to be conquered, Icarus had always been adamant that it be treated with care. Icarus' own introduction to the world of sex had been carelessly handled by a German Muggle tourist when Icarus was only fourteen. While Icarus claimed he'd been more than willing and had deliberately neglected to tell his circumstantial lover of his inexperience, he admitted that the whole affair had been rather unpleasant. Icarus was determined that Harry understand right away that sex was beautiful, despite the pain.

Harry's impatience was momentarily forgotten when he was promptly encased in a warm, wet and wickedly talented mouth. By Icarus' playful movements, it was clear that Harry's desire would not be fulfilled in this way, rather, the man wanted to distract Harry's attention and draw it away from the slippery finger inching its way back. Icarus' pushed against the backs of Harry's thighs, fitting his shoulders against them as Harry's knees came up off the bed. A slick finger massaged the wrinkly flesh of Harry's entrance as the mouth moved teasingly around him, leaving Harry moaning to be put out of his misery.

The finger was replaced by the relatively cold, impersonal tip of Icarus' wand. A second later, Harry felt something warm fill his channel and knew it was the lubrication spell Icarus had told him about. The wand disappeared and the finger returned, spreading the oil around the rim before pressing inside. Harry's breath hitched. An echo of the sound came from Icarus as the digit worked its way slowly inside. It was weird feeling something moving inside there; neither particularly painful, nor particularly pleasant. There was a bit of pressure, but mostly it was just weird. Harry began to worry that perhaps he simply wasn't built right for this.

As though to contradict his thoughts, Icarus storked Harry's cock, sending a shot of pleasure rocketing up his spine. The sensation seemed somehow more intense for the finger up his bum, which tightened around it. A strangled groan tore from Harry's throat. Icarus' mouth came up off Harry's cock with a curse.

"You are exquisite," the man breathed, his hand moving in counter-rhythm to the finger probing him.

Harry opened his eyes and stared blearily at the other man. His lips parted to let out a breath he'd been holding. Immediately, he felt himself relax around the probing digit. He saw a devilish grin stretch across his boyfriend's face, just before a violent shock of sensation rocketed through him. Harry's body went rigid. His teeth clenched over a shout. "Fuck," he gasped, when his lungs expanded once more.

Icarus laughed lightly. His mouth closed once again over the tip of Harry's cock, suckling at the tip. His finger continued to tease around the magic button inside him that caused the muscles in his thighs to twitch every time that finger came too close. Harry thought he understood what it would feel like to be a puppet. "Now," he insisted. "Please."

"You are not ready yet," Icarus told him. Before Harry could argue the point, the finger slipped out and came back doubled up. Harry's face went tight as the fingers fitted themselves inside. It didn't hurt, but the pressure was uncomfortable and it wasn't at all difficult to imagine the pain that would come when Icarus tried to fit himself in there. "Just breathe," the man whispered, his tongue tripping lightly over the words.

Harry took a deep breath and held it until he could hear his frantic heartbeat in his head. Icarus stroked him languidly, trying futilely to call his attention back to pleasure. Harry exhaled slowly, focussing on relaxing and doing his best to ignore the fingers twisting inside of him, spreading him open. As those fingers curled to slide on either side of that spot, Harry whimpered, his body jerking under the touch. Icarus' thumb ran over the tip of Harry's cock, spreading it with a thin layer of precome.

The man straightened up to sit against the heels of his feet. His fingers moved in shallow thrusts, scissoring inside Harry, as his hand moved in long, smooth strokes. Harry bit down on his lips and tried to school his breathing, which grew increasingly urgent as his discomfort gave over to pleasure. After an achingly long moment, a third finger joined the two and Harry began the process of accepting the intrusion all over again.

Icarus dropped Harry's cock back to his belly and leant forward to kiss him deeply. Harry responded eagerly, desperately wanting the contact with the man. His hands held Icarus' face close, moaning as those fingers continued to move within him until they pulled out altogether. Icarus planted his hands on either side of Harry's head and snogged him until both men were breathless. "Are you ready?" Icarus asked, breathlessly.

Harry, unable to form a coherent thought, nodded. Icarus retreated a moment to gather Harry's knees over his shoulders. He came back, bracing himself with one hand as his other guided his cock toward Harry's entrance. The man's eyes were dark, warm and full of tenderness when he looked at Harry. "I'll go slowly," he promised.

The blunt tip of his cock pushed gently against Harry's hole which clenched forbiddingly. Harry closed his eyes, clenching his jaw to steel himself against the anticipated pain. Icarus chuckled. "Harry," he teased, "don't make that face. It will not be so bad," he said with a grin.

Harry laughed. "I'm terrified," he admitted.

"Don't be. Just relax. Breathe," the man bade gently.

Harry nodded and let out a held breath. Icarus pushed forward insistently. The flesh resisted a moment before the head popped against the slippery ring. Harry's body jerked reflexively. He lost his battle to keep his breaths slow and calm. Icarus made a tight, agonised noise. A series of curses fell from his lips with every outward breath. "Are you okay?" the man asked, eyes searching Harry's face.

"Hurts," Harry said.

Icarus nodded, pulling his hips back a fraction before pressing a centimetre further. His expression was tight and concentrated, mirroring Harry's own. Harry raised his hands to the man's straining shoulders. Icarus released his cock in favour of taking up Harry's once more, stroking it as his hips rocked in small movements. 

The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was difficult to imagine finding pleasure on the other side of this. His cock was softening in Icarus' hand, despite the man's attentions. Icarus' cock sliced through him, slowly spreading flesh that was simply not intended to be so treated. But when Harry looked at the man who watched him with eyes full of concern and love, Harry summoned the courage to persevere. He wanted to be able to give Icarus this. The man had given him so much; this was one thing Harry could offer in return. 

"Gods," Icarus breathed, closing his eyes. "You feel incredible, Harry."

Harry's body flushed with pleasure at the compliment. His resolve was made solid by the man's words. His body, he decided, would be at Icarus' disposal. Let him take his pleasure from it. What was a little discomfort in the face of such ecstasy? Harry took a deep breath, and Icarus pressed a little further inside as Harry's arse relaxed a bit more. Both men gasped. 

Icarus retreated back almost entirely before sliding back again. It was less painful the second time around. The further inside the man rocked, the less it hurt. Harry felt impossibly full and relatively sure he would have burst if Icarus had been any bigger than he was, but he rode out the discomfort until Icarus was fully seated.

Icarus leant forward, folding Harry in half in an effort to kiss him. Harry couldn't breathe properly, but air was a small price to pay for that mouth, which had the power to make him forget all the pain that came before. Icarus' movement sent him even further inside. He stopped resting inside Harry as he continued to rain kisses down on him. 

"I love you," Harry reaffirmed breathlessly.

"Are you all right?"

"Think so," Harry answered.

"It will get better. I promise."

"It's fine," Harry assured the man. He had to believe the man was telling the truth. He'd seen how much the man had enjoyed it when Raven had taken him. But Raven's cock was slimmer than Icarus'. Harry wondered if the man was simply too big for this to ever feel nice. He decided it didn't matter.

Icarus met his eyes and smiled at him. "Such a brave boy," he said, gently teasing Harry.

Harry laughed breathily. As they lay there together, gradually the discomfort faded to an indefinable ache that was considerably more pleasant. As though sensing the change, Icarus once again began moving, circling his hips until the ache in Harry's arse made its way back to his balls. Harry's cock twitched in interest. A low groan rumbled in Harry's throat and Icarus moved back to hold Harry's hips, giving Harry room to take up his cock.

Harry's arousal was gently coaxed out of hiding and spread warmly through him as Icarus' movements grew longer and more deliberate. The man watched him with an intensity that Harry'd never seen before, but it made him feel at once in awe and utterly possessed. Icarus' nostrils flared with every indrawn breath. His bottom lip was repeatedly bitten and released in time with his efforts. Harry's hand flew over his revived cock working to ensure it would remain interested.

Icarus urged his hips higher. Harry used his calves for leverage as Icarus thrust in hard, scraping past that spot deep inside and making Harry call out in surprised joy. "Oh my god," he breathed, and Icarus began a concerted attack on that spot.

Harry soon lost capacity for coherent thought. His body was woven with pure pleasure. Every inch of him buzzed with it. He struggled to focus on the man above him, wanting to memorise every expression. Eventually he lost the battle, his body arched as Icarus' movements grew less cautious. The man thrust in quick, firm strokes pushing Harry closer and closer to the edge until Harry could do nothing else but leap off. His body went taut, arching up until he balanced on the back of his head, suspended in an eternal moment of sensory bliss.

Icarus groaned and sped up to leap after him. He slammed his hips home, curling inward as he spent his pleasure deep inside Harry, hands clutching Harry's hips in a crushing grip. A moment later, Harry's legs dropped to the side and Icarus kissed him hard, feeding Harry his ecstatic breaths and thanking him repeatedly. Harry's arms held him tightly. He could scarcely kiss the man for the grin stretching uncontrollably over his face. Relieved laughter bubbled in his chest.

"Don't ever leave me," Icarus breathed, pressing his forehead to Harry's. 

"Never," Harry laughed. "Never," he said again, kissing the promise to the man's mouth.

"We will get married. My mother will be so happy," Icarus laughed.

Harrry giggled. "Okay," he said agreeably.

Icarus pulled away with an ecstatic grin. "You think I am joking. I would marry you tomorrow."

"Maybe not tomorrow," Harry said with a silly grin. "Tomorrow you're going to fuck me, remember?"

Icarus shouted in laughter and kissed Harry on the lips before pulling back to clean them both. He settled back to the bed, lying along Harry's side. "So, it was not too traumatic?"

Harry turned to look at the man. "You're amazing," he said, feeling a spike of gratitude toward Severus for having refused him. He didn't know what a first time with Severus would have been like, but he couldn't imagine anything could be more perfect.

"Thank you," Icarus said, voice thick with sincerity. "For trusting me."

Harry kissed the man in response, doing what he could to communicate that trusting the man came as easily as breathing now. It was a trust that came from knowing beyond doubt that one was loved. 

The sound of pounding at the door tore the two apart. Their eyes met. Harry's groan died in a giggle. 

"It might be important," Icarus pointed out.

"You really think?"

"No. But it might be." Icarus raised his eyebrows, and Harry rolled his eyes. Icarus moved to search for his wand, while Harry burrowed under the covers in a futile attempt at modesty. The wards and silencing spells were cancelled and the locks were undone. Harry turned on his side, spooned up against Icarus, as they waited for the invasion. 

"What?" Harry shouted.

The door opened a crack, Raven and Niamh peeking through.

"You two are supremely annoying," Harry said with a grin.

The door opened wider to admit the two and closed behind them. The sat heavily on the bed with matching grins. Icarus laughed and hugged Harry tighter.

"Does he look different to you?" Niamh asked Raven.

"The boy who lived has become a man," Raven sighed.

"Oh, fuck off," Harry laughed, burying his blushing face into the pillow. 

"So, how was it?" Raven asked.

"You can't ask him now. Icarus is here. He's not going to be truthful, is he?" Niamh said, rolling her eyes.

"It was good," Harry said, a stupid grin stretching across his face.

"Good," Icarus scoffed.

"Brilliant."

"Beautiful," Icarus said.

"Beautiful," Harry agreed, twisting around to kiss the man.

"Ew," Niamh said. "They're going to be intolerable."

"No one invited you in here," Harry pointed out.

"We're in this together, dude," Raven said with a laugh. "We've been waiting for ages."

Harry gave the intruders a bland look. He wasn't sure he'd ever be completely at ease with just how open his sex life had become, but somehow he couldn't manage to feel resentful. In a strange sort of way, he agreed with Raven.

"Tomorrow, we are in this together. Go away," Icarus said.

Raven gave a small pout. "You wound me." He leant down to kiss Harry on the forehead and then kissed Icarus on the mouth before standing. "Come on, Niamh. Let's leave them to their afterglow."

Niamh patted Harry on the head before standing. "Have fun," she said with a wicked grin. The two slipped out of the room, leaving Harry and Icarus to bask.

Harry turned to face the man, reaching out to touch his face. Icarus beamed back at him. "We should not have let them in," he said apologetically.

Harry shook his head. "Dunno what I'd do without the ill-timed intrusion," Harry joked. "It sort of completed the experience."

Icarus sniggered and leant in to kiss him. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," Harry said, surprised at the depth to which the feeling went. He didn't think he'd ever been happier. Not even receiving his Hogwarts letter felt like this. It wasn't the sex. It wasn't even just Icarus. It was the sense that he was doing precisely what he should be doing. It was the idea that perhaps Fate could be something more than a series of tragedies. When he considered all the pain that preceeded this moment, he felt a strong sense of faith that his path was bound for better things. For the first time in his life, he wasn't waiting for the bubble to burst.

"I am happy, too. Niamh is right. We will be intolerable," he grinned.

Harry laughed and kissed the man. "She'll learn to live with it."

**

Harry stood outside the auditorium and the centre, stomach swimming with uncertainty. He didn't know why he was here. This door had been closed to him, and it was senseless to try and peek through it again. He had no idea what he would say to the man if they were to meet. He didn't even know if Severus would talk to him at all. 

Niamh wrapped her arm around his waist. "Come on," she said. "The award ceremony is about to begin. He probably won't even see you."

Harry nodded and let himself be guided into the crowded auditorium. The seats were full, so they took spaces along the wall at the side of the room. Harry scanned the stage, but didn't see him. "Maybe he's not here," he whispered.

"His name is on the bill to give the award," Niamh said. "He'll be here."

"I don't know why I'm here," Harry said dully. He had everything he wanted. Seeing Severus would only reopen old wounds. It was masochistic. 

"Because I dragged you here," Niamh laughed. 

"You're over your thing," Harry reminded her.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But I feel bad for him. He's a prick, but ... He cares about you Harry. I don't think he's any happier about your split than you."

"I'm okay with it," Harry said. "He wants to lock me in a box to keep me safe. He's racked off because I won't do as he says." It was mostly true. There was a sadness that went along with the end of an era, but Harry had long since stopped thinking about it. He was happy.

"Maybe he's over it," Niamh said. "Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move."

Harry snorted. "We're talking about a man who's capable of carrying grudges across generations, Niamh."

"He still asks after you," she pointed out.

"Because he's obsessed with duty," Harry retorted, and he knew he was right. Severus looked after him because he couldn't not look after him. It was a twenty-year-old bad habit.

"Look, you weren't there. You didn't see him. Don't get me wrong. I'm really glad you didn't go back to Britain, but I don't think he was there out of duty, Harry. I wouldn't like to think what would have happened if you didn't make it through."

Harry opened his mouth to point out that he had made it through, and so it was a moot point, but his words were cut off by the appearance of the man crossing the stage purposefully to take his seat at a table with four others. In his best robes, Severus looked no different from when he'd come to Grimmauld Place and pulled Harry out of the wreckage his life had become in the aftermath of the war. Harry's heart gave a pathetic little tug at the sight of the man. The regret he'd spent months repressing stirred inside him once more.

"He's a bastard," Niamh said quietly, "but a sexy bastard."

Harry snorted lightly and gave the girl a look. Having spent several days with Severus at his absolute worst whilst Harry lay dreaming, her infatuation with the man had abated considerably. Judging by the starry-eyed look on her face, it hadn't gone completely.

The Dean of the Alchemy Centre approached the podium. His long, white beard contrasted with his dark, wrinkled skin. He looked ancient, but when he spoke, there was a power in his voice that belied his decrepit appearance. 

Harry fazed the man out as he spoke to begin the closing ceremonies, concentrating instead on the man he'd come to see. He took advantage of the rare moment to really look at him. He appeared completely at ease among the great minds of the potions experts and celebrated alchemists. It occurred to Harry, not for the first time, how wasted the man had been as a teacher of children. He thought he could understand Severus' resentment. Seeing the man in his element, Harry got a sense of what Severus had given up to keep him safe.

But that wasn't right, Harry reasoned. The path Severus had been on before the first fall over Voldemort was bound for a much darker place. It took the tragedy of losing his cherished friend and the resulting guilt-led penance to bring Severus here. It took dying to set both men to rights.

The dean presented the panel of judges and each stood and nodded in response to the polite applause. When the man came to Severus, he rattled off a list of scholarly accomplishments that Harry hadn't even been aware of. Severus' part in the war wasn't mentioned, except to attribute the man with an Order of Merlin, First Class for Extraordinary Service to Britain. It struck Harry suddenly that outside the man's involvement with Voldemort, he knew very little about him.

Severus remained standing until the bearded old wizard handed the ceremony over to him. Severus stepped confidently to the podium and waited for the applause to quieten down before speaking in a low voice that effectively cut off any lingering conversation. Harry found himself smiling a little to know the man's power didn't only work on intimidated students.

"I'm so glad he wasn't my teacher," Niamh said quietly in his ear, as Severus began introducing the nominees for the Outstanding Contribution award. "I wouldn't have learnt a thing. He has a voice that just ... curls up inside you and wreaks havoc on your nether regions."

Harry swallowed back a laugh and covered his mouth for good measure. He couldn't quite say that the voice had the same effect on him. He thought if Niamh had been Severus' student, she'd not be so affected. Harry had heard that silky voice say far too many hateful things to be so moved by it. But he thought he could understand the appeal. Here, in this room, Severus' voice thrummed with quiet confidence. He didn't raise his voice to be heard. He didn't need to. The voice commanded attention. People couldn't help but listen.

As Severus described the different avenues of research that led to the nominations, Harry ceased trying to understand. He could pick out familiar terms and concepts, but largely, the discourse was way over his head. He knew he wasn't an idiot, but neither was he a scholar. He had no desire to become one. Instead, he listened to the timbre of the man's voice; he admired his cool confidence that was devoid of the spitefulness that usually accompanied Severus' lectures in Potions class. 

The man belonged here. Harry found suddenly that he didn't regret their split at all. He felt a hint of sadness to know that their friendship was over, but with it came a stronger sense of rightness. Severus was exactly where he belonged. He'd earned his place here, and Harry could only ever be an anchor, tying him to a Fate that was already fulfilled.

And that went both ways. Harry would always feel a deep sense of gratitude toward the man for all he'd done. He would always admire him and wish him well. But both of them needed the break to be free to follow their separate paths, which now ran parallel. Perhaps, many years from now – when Harry had grown up and Severus had moved on – they could find friendship again. It didn't seem particularly probable today, but the possibility existed.

Harry would leave it up to Fate to decide.

"Come on," he whispered, grabbing Niamh by the arm. "I don't need to be here."

"You sure?"

Harry reassured her with a nod and a smile. As they left the auditorium, he got the sense that each step he took secured his past more firmly behind him. His heart ached a little, but it was a bittersweet ache that came from closure. He felt he'd finally left behind The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One and all that came with that. The path before him was unclear, but it seemed to glow with a sense of optimism and purpose.  
He had no delusions that he'd achieved his happily ever after. It was enough that he'd found happiness for now. He felt lucky that Fate had seen it fit to offer this reprieve from a life that had been so laden with tragedy and loss. He could only hope that Severus would be likewise lucky.

It wasn't the end, he knew. But it was an end. He would eagerly meet whatever came next.


End file.
